The Doer Alone Learneth
by QuestionablyCapableGhoul
Summary: When representatives from Amestris arrive at Hogwarts to forge bonds between the Wizarding World and their country in the age of the Marauders, things get interesting! A number of things follow, like secrets, pranks, and an unfortunate Christmas. (Rewrite of Golden Eyes, which I decided wasn't going so well.)
1. The Thing is in Progress

**Hello! This is my third (fourth?) fic on this site, and this is a rewrite; I'm going over the original. For those of you who have read this before, there are no significant changes to the first three chapters; I changed the punctuation for a few things and added a few sentences. I also fixed the thing about werewolves having golden eyes. For those of you who are new to this story, thank you for reading.**

 **This is after the end of FMA Brotherhood, and Ed still has his alchemy and automail. What does Truth take in exchange for Al's body? Well, you'll see!**

 **(Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or HP.)**

* * *

 _ **The Thing is in Progress**_

* * *

"Have you heard?" James asked, feigning a lazy yawn as the Marauders strolled down the train, looking for an available compartment. Strangely enough, all of the compartments they'd passed so far didn't have enough space for the four of them.

"What? That rumour about an alchemy class?" Sirius drawled, uninterested. "That's a load of rubbish. Alchemy's a dead magic, and a bloody useless one, too."

"Hm," James replied, pondering his friend's words, "You're no fun, Padfoot. Just think about it!"

Sirius shot him a smirk.

"Why're _all_ of these compartments full - oh! This one's not!" Sirius opened the door to a mostly empty compartment.

The sole inhabitant was a golden-haired teen with their nose in a book.

"Do you mind if we sit here?" Remus asked quietly.

"Nah," the person shrugged, glancing absently up from their book to regard them with keen golden eyes. _Golden?_ Remus tucked the thought away to address later.

The Marauders filed in, stacking their luggage on the overhead rack and sitting down.

"But don't you think it would be interesting? Alchemy, I mean. Turning lead into gold and all!" James resumed his earlier line of thought.

Remus noticed the blonde twitch.

"I suppose, Prongs, but why would they teach us that sort of stuff?" Remus said. "It's a dead magic - there's hardly any use!"

James sighed and turned his attention to the window. It was only for a moment, then a thought suddenly struck him. "Say, are you a first-year? I don't think I've seen you around Hogwarts-"

The blonde scoffed. "What a ridiculous name." They could make out a smile behind his book.

"I guess it is, isn't it?" Sirius asked, eyes glinting amusedly and mouth pulled up into a smirk. "Wonder who came up with it?"

The long-haired blonde shot back with an equally devious expression before offering a gloved hand to the dark-haired teen. "Edward Elric. Call me Ed."

"Sirius Black," he took the blonde's hand.

"James Potter," James grinned, eyes lighting up.

Remus smiled a bit wearily and waved. "Remus Lupin."

"P-Peter Pettigrew!" Peter squeaked.

Remus leaned slightly towards Ed. "What were you reading?"

" _A History of Hogwarts_ ," Ed said, tripping up on the last word. "At first I thought all this magic stuff was a load of bullshit, but…" he trailed off, shrugging.

By now they had assumed that he was a first-year. Who else would be so clueless about magic?

"You're a Muggleborn?" Remus asked, surprised. With his air and elegant features, he'd seemed a bit pure-blooded.

Ed grinned slightly. "I guess you could say that."

"So what house do you want to be in?" James asked.

"If I had to pick, I'd say Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor."

James brightened even more. "Brilliant! You didn't pick Slytherin! It would be a shame for such a promising youngster-" At this, Remus noticed that Ed's face darkened, though he couldn't imagine why- "-to be lost to the clutches of the house of the Great Slimy Git."

"I've met my fair share of bastards. Can't say I don't enjoy pissing them off," Ed leaned back, fingers tapping idly on _A History of Magic_. He flipped it open again and continued reading. The Marauders, taking that as a sign that the conversation was over, scooted closer together and launched themselves into an argument about which one of their professors was worse.

. . .

Internally, Ed was freaking out. These wizard bastards were weird! It wasn't just the existence of magic, no, now they had castles for schools and giant squids and Truth knew what else!

It was then that Ed came to an obvious and unsurprising conclusion: Wizards were fucking insane.

So, with an inaudible sigh and a mental reminder of a potential court-martial, Edward Elric resigned himself to his fate.

. . .

After they got off the train, the Marauders lost sight of Ed. Not that they were surprised, he was probably a first-year and would be in the boats with the other midgets. It gave them ample time to discuss the blonde as they rode in the horseless carriage towards Hogwarts.

"He has golden eyes," Remus remarked, "Odd, don't you reckon? They're like the eyes of the werewolf that…"

"Why don't you ask him about it? If he is, you can reassure him that his secret's safe with a fellow werewolf, and if he isn't, don't tell him," Sirius suggested absently, flipping through a worn Muggle magazine about motorbikes.

"Well, that's a problem for another time, mate," James said. "Do you think he'd be any good at Quidditch?"

"Maybe," Sirius said, eyes glinting excitedly at the prospect of playing Quidditch, "He gives the impression of someone who's down with a few pranks. What d'you think about making him our protégé?"

"Let's ask him later," James said.

"His hair's very long," Peter offered hesitantly, a complete non sequitur.

. . .

Ed was pissed. Very pissed. And soaking wet. "Hey!" He shouted. "You little bastard!"

A small, ugly, flying man with an armful of balloons cackled. "Look who's talking, pipsqueak!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING PEA-SIZED, DAMMIT!"

The first-years watched the spectacle, wide-eyed. Ed was jumping (rather awkwardly), trying to catch Peeves. It was difficult without alchemy (Mustang's directions had been annoyingly specific, leaving no loopholes for Ed to use it) and with his imbalanced limbs, jumping was hard. "Dammit!" Ed cried again, angrily.

"Young man!" Minerva McGonagall's voice rang through the hall, disapproving. "Peeves! Stop this at once!"

With a feigned pout followed by a snicker, Peeves zoomed away, leaving a smoldering Ed.

"You're the transfer from Amestris, correct?" The austere-looking woman asked, frowning. "Edward Elric?"

"Yeah," Ed replied, "Call me Ed." The golden-haired alchemist shot one last glare in the direction Peeves had shot off in.

"Very well." She added loudly, "Come this way! First-years! Follow me!"

With apprehensive expressions, the first-years followed behind the tall woman and the dripping blonde through the large, ornate golden doors that lead to the Great Hall.

. . .

"Look, there the midget is! Looks like Peeves got him!" Sirius remarked, amusement shining in his dark eyes.

"He's not wearing his robes," Remus remarked with a frown, shooting a glance at Professor McGonagall, who, indeed, looked displeased at Ed's attire.

"I'm surprised McGonagall didn't bite his head off," James responded, "His clothes are odd."

It was true; Ed was wearing black leather pants, heavy boots, a long red coat, and white gloves. Not to mention, he was scowling and slouching, something McGonagall disapproved of immensely. The Transfiguration teacher's lips were pressed tightly together, and she was glaring rather pointedly at the blonde

As the first years finished murmuring in awe at the enchanted ceiling, Dumbledore stood up - an unusual occurrence, since he typically saved his speech for after the Sorting. "Before we welcome the first-years to Hogwarts, I'd like to announce that in an arrangement with the nation of Amestris, Hogwarts has opened it's doors to Colonel Roy Mustang-"

At Dumbledore's sweeping gesture, a dark-eyed man with short black hair, a smug expression, and a stiff blue uniform stood up for a moment before taking his seat again.

"-Who will be teaching alchemy, available to third-years and up-"

He fell silent as the Great Hall filled with excited muttering.

"It wasn't just a rumor!" James crowed, poking Sirius. "You were wrong, Padfoot!"

Sirius chuckled. "We're sixth-years. That means we can take it."

"I haven't heard of Amestris before," Remus mused, "I think I'll head to the library after the feast."

James sighed, grinning a little, "You and your bloody books, Moony."

After the hall fell back into silence, Dumbledore resumed his speech.

"-And Major Edward Elric, who will be joining the student body as a sixth-year. If you would," he gestured to Ed, who stepped up onto the raised floor. He was still dripping with water.

"Ed?" James asked, "Wait - Major?"

The golden-haired teen walked up to the Sorting Hat, which looked especially battered and dirty in the light cast by innumerable floating candles. "Please, call me Ed," He chuckled, unafraid of the burning curiosity of the student body, "Usually if someone's using my full name, they're trying to kill me. So, I put this hat on?" The blonde asked, eyeing the hat before he shrugged.

And with that, he hopped onto the stool and dropped the hat on his head, where it slid down over his eyes.

. . .

 _You're very cunning,_ the hat muttered, and Ed started a little. _And ambitious. You could be a Slytherin. But you're also intelligent, with a good work ethic - when you think it's important. Loyal. Brave._

 _Is this the work of a soul-bind?_ Ed wondered. _It's very advanced. I doubt I could make it._

 _Yes, very intelligent indeed - and curious, too._ The hat commented. _Honestly, I don't remember anymore. Too many years have gone by._ It switched topics again. _I see a lot of bravery in you, though. Even to the point of reckless idiocy._

 _Haha, that's true._ Ed chuckled.

 _Best put you in-_ "Gryffindor!" The hat shouted.

There was a round of confused applause and cheering from the Gryffindor table, and as Ed walked down to an empty seat - conveniently situated by the Marauders - he looked over his shoulder to see Mustang's smug smirk. Why did he always look so smug?

The alchemist sat down absentmindedly, and subsequently, he jumped when Sirius leaned over with a grin and said loudly - the Sorting Hat had begun it's longwinded song - "Welcome to Gryffindor, _Major_ Ed. You're in our year, so we can show you around."

Ed grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "Thanks."

"What's up with that?" James asked, "Major? Colonel?"

"Yeah, Amestris is a military nation."

"But you're so tiny!" James exclaimed. Wrong choice of words.

"DAMMIT, I'M SIXTEEN! WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO TINY THAT YOU COULD SQUASH HIM UNDER YOUR SHOE?!"

A momentary lull in the hubbub around them went unnoticed as Remus leaned across James, concerned, and not put off in the slightest by his outburst. "Sixteen? And in the military?! Isn't that dangerous? Aren't you a bit young?"

"I'm in a ... special branch. There wasn't an age limit since they didn't think a twelve-year-old could meet the requirements for the exam. I'm a genius," Ed told them proudly, lacing his gloved fingers behind his head.

"You joined when you were twelve?" James asked, eyes lighting up. "Didn't your parents think it was dangerous?"

"Parents? Who said anything about parents?" Ed scowled, golden eyes flashing.

"You ran away?" Peter asked. He, who had reasonably well-off, kind (if not a bit negligent) parents, could never dream of running away.

"Nah. My dad's a good-for-nothing bastard who left us when we were young. He didn't even come to our mom's funeral."

"Oh," James said, taking note of Ed's gloomy tone and darkened expression.

They fell into silence, turning their attention back up to the front of the hall, where the last first-year was being Sorted. "Avaro, Maiza!" A pause, then, "Ravenclaw!"

Dumbledore rose again. "I'd like to remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is exactly that - forbidden. A few of you would do well to remember." His blue eyes landed briefly on the Marauders before he continued.

"Mr. Filch would also like me to remind you, for what he tells me is the one-hundred and thirty-seventh time, that spells are banned in the halls, along with a number of other things that are in a list tacked to your announcement boards and in his office. Lastly, I am happy to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark arts teacher, Professor Michaelis!"

At his words, a tall, dark-haired woman in a black blazer, slacks, and a white dress shirt stood up, inclined her head slightly, and sat down again.

"Now, let us dig in!" Dumbledore smiled broadly before taking his seat.

. . .

"We get a new Defense teacher every year," Sirius said conversationally as he reached for a roll from a platter that had appeared before them just seconds ago.

"The position's cursed," Peter put in.

"How does it work?" Ed asked, tearing himself away from glaring ferociously at a jug of milk, then muttered something that sounded like, 'Equivalent exchange'.

"What? The food? House-elves down in the kitchens make it and send it up. Wizards can't make _everything_ appear out of thin air, you know."

"Dammit," Ed groaned, slumping in his seat, his expression an odd mixture of relieved and disappointed. "So it's really only the Philosopher's stone. Damn."

"Philosopher's Stone?" Remus asked, adding the words to the growing list of things he had to look up. That reminded him of the question he had to ask Ed. He could do it later, after all, it was only him, Sirius, James, Peter, and now Ed in the sixfth-year boy's dorm.

"Nothing," Ed said, "So, elves? You wizards really do like to make everything magical."

"What do you mean? Aren't you a wizard?" James asked, a forkful of chicken halfway to his mouth.

"I'm an - yeah." Ed grinned. Sirius narrowed his eyes suspiciously. What had Ed been about to say? The long-haired blonde leaned over to grab a soup ladle, glaring at a nearby jug of milk as he did so. Remus, who had been sitting next to him, caught sight of an odd symbol on the back of his long coat; a cross with a snake curled around it and a three-pointed crown over it.

Yet another curiosity to research in the library. Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes, already mentally preparing for the rigorous search he was going to do after dinner.

. . .

"Here's our dorm. The luggage should already be in there," James told Ed brightly, throwing open a door. Between the many moving paintings (Ed even saw a giraffe loping calmly through frames), moving staircases, and hidden traps, it had been further verified in Ed's mind that wizards were crazy, so stepping into the room without something weird happening was a relief.

The room was circular, with a doorway leading to what Ed guessed was a bathroom, and five four-poster beds set evenly along the stone walls, each with piles of luggage at the foot and a small table by its side.

"Great," Ed yawned, stretching. "I could really use some sleep. We don't start classes early tomorrow, do we?"

"No," James replied, running a hand through his thick black hair. "We get our class schedules at breakfast, but that's not very early. Are you going to unpack?" He added, watching as Ed flopped down on his bed with a groan.

"Nah." Ed scooted farther back onto the bed and swung his leg up. Getting to his knees, fully dressed, he pulled his curtains shut.

Shrugging, James looked at Peter and Sirius, who were either crouching by their bags or lounging in a sitting position on their bed. Walking up to Ed's curtains, he heard a faint snoring. "He's asleep," he said with astonishment. "I guess Moony can just ask him tomorrow. Wanna sneak out after Moony gets back?"

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Please review!**

 **Well, until next time, then, I bid you adieu.**


	2. Don't Question the Thing

**Another chapter! This one was easy to rewrite - I didn't have much to change.**

 **Thanks, everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited.**

 **(Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or HP.)**

* * *

Don't Question the Thing

* * *

 _Ed walked into Mustang's office, where the Colonel sat at his desk, elbows on the surface, fingers laced together, and a smirk on his face. "The Fuhrer has a mission for you, Fullmetal," he told Ed smugly._

 _(After the events of the Promised Day, a new Fuhrer had been appointed - Grumman, who used to be Roy's superior officer. Major Edward Elric, though he didn't know it, was being lined up for promotion, as was Colonel Roy Mustang.)_

 _The blonde flopped down onto the couch and gave Mustang a lazy glare. "What is it?"_

 _"You've been assigned to a school-" Mustang took a moment to stifle a snigger, "-for magic."_

 _Ed laughed so hard that he fell off of the couch. Teary-eyed, he asked, voice full of mirth, "You really thought I'd believe that? You had me woken up for that?" He got to his feet and strode over to the door, hands in pockets._

 _Before he could even bring one out to open the door, it opened and Fuhrer Grumman, smiling, stepped in. "I'm afraid it's not a joke, Major Elric. You're being sent there as part of a diplomatic representative of Amestris. The wizarding community is powerful and we could use their power."_

 _"You're not going alone, Major," he continued, fixing his gaze on Colonel Mustang, who had been trying to hide his amusement. "Colonel Mustang will be accompanying you in order to finalize ties with their Ministry and to teach alchemy at the school."_

 _Mustang's expression now matched Ed's._

 _"A representative from the school will come for you at two. I'll be expecting monthly reports, and your assessments will still take place. It's all been arranged with the school."_

 _Fuhrer Grumman swept out of the office._

 _Ed turned to Mustang, grinning. "What were you saying?"_

 _Mustang glared at him and snapped, "Midget."_

 _"WHO ARE YOU CALLING MICROSCOPIC, BASTARD?!"_

 _. . ._

 _At two o'clock, Ed was lounging on the couch in Mustang's office, a small suitcase resting at his feet. Mustang, Riza, Al and Armstrong (who was sobbing dramatically) were gathered in the room as well._

 _Having been briefed on the details of the mission, Ed muttered, "How the hell are we supposed to get to England, anyway?"_

 _He was answered with a loud crack! as a large, grey-haired man appeared out of nowhere. He blinked a few times and glanced around._

 _The man jumped, startled, when Ed jumped up, fists ready, shouting, "What the hell?!" Mustang let out a string of curses, and Riza raised her gun to the ready._

 _When his wondering eyes landed on Mustang, he smiled broadly. "You must be Colonel Roy Mustang. I'm Horace Slughorn, from the school." Horace extended a pudgy hand, which Mustang took. "I've heard about a certain Major Edward Elric…" he peered around before his eyes landed on Armstrong. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Major Elric!" Horace lifted a hand towards the muscular blonde._

 _"Hey!" Ed exclaimed, "I'm Edward Elric!" He waved his arms, glaring at Horace and Mustang, the latter of whom was silently chuckling._

 _"Oh!" the wizard said, frowning, "Aren't you a bit young?"_

 _"DAMMIT, I'M FIFTEEN!"_

 _"Oh," he said again, this time without surprise, "Well, then, I see. Er, shall we go, then?"_

 _"Wait!" Al called, "Can I say goodbye?"_

 _His brother, in the three months since he'd gotten his body back, had put on enough muscle and gained enough strength to journey to Central and see his brother off._

 _"Er, well, I suppose," Horace said._

 _Al swept Ed up in a stiff hug. "I'll miss you, brother! Make sure to write, and don't break anything, alright?"_

 _"I won't, I don't want a wrench to the head. Please let go, Al, you're crushing me!" Ed wheezed._

 _He was released, only to be swept up into another hug by Louis Armstrong. "I'll miss you, Edward!" Tears streamed down Armstrong's face. He sparkled._

 _Meanwhile, Riza had approached Mustang with a salute, and said, "Don't do anything stupid, sir." He smirked in response. "When do I ever?"_

 _She glared, poker-faced, at him, and he paled._

 _"Alright then, let's get going." Horace interrupted. "If you will," he said, holding out his arm, which Ed and Mustang hesitantly gripped._

 _Grinning slightly, the golden-haired alchemist looked at Al. "I'll wri-"_

 _And with another crack! they were gone._

 _. . ._

 _Ed's school books and supplies had already been paid for and picked up, courtesy of his impressive funding, including second-hand books for the five years he'd have to catch up on._

 _After the school representative - Horace Slughorn - had dropped them off in the shabby inn known as The Leaky Cauldron and Tom had shown them to their rooms, Mustang had been picked up by a wizard in a suit - it was for a meeting with the Ministry - and Ed had retreated to his room to read._

 _He and the Colonel had arrived on July 19th, and by the 27th - after far too many sleepless nights - Ed had caught up and was starting in on the sixth-year books._

 _The meals had been brought to them by a nosy maid, who always snuck a peek into Ed's cluttered room, nose wrinkling at the ever-increasing disarray._

 _When the blonde was halfway through The Essentials of Defense Against the Dark Arts (Sixth Year), he felt a sudden urge to wander outside. Reminding himself that he had a whole month to spend here, he set his book down, got dressed, and exited through the back of the inn where he'd been shown the way into what was called Diagon Alley._

 _The sun was shining brightly, which was a welcome change from the weather outside the last time Ed had bothered to push aside the dusty green curtains over his window. How many days ago had that been? Five?_

 _Diagon Alley was lined with shops so different that it looked like an odd patchwork. Decrepit, faded shops leaned precariously, squeezed between tall, freshly painted buildings, and their steps were cluttered with birdcages, furniture, and fallen signs. Among this all bustled all varieties of people: impatient children trailing after flustered parents, old wizards haggling over prices at scattered stalls, and teens excitedly pulling each other along, hands full of bags._

 _At the end of the long street, where it branched off into two more streets, proudly stood a large, pristine building, complete with elaborate golden gilding and sturdy pillars. Awash with the warmth of sunlight, it was truly a sight to behold. Grinning like a sugar-hyped child, Ed set foot into the hubbub of the Wizarding World._

 _. . ._

 _Between his books and the many fascinating things in Diagon Alley, the month passed quickly, and Ed found himself frantically shoving various things into a suitcase, letting out a constant stream of 'dammit's. Mustang, who he'd hardly seen during their all-too brief time there, had already left, leaving Ed to the mercies of his foul-tempered Ministry cab driver. The grizzled wizard was honking his horn without pause, irking the patrons of the inn's bar and only making Ed more hurried._

 _With a final triumphant shout, Ed got the last book into his straining bag and leapt down the stairs, landing each time with a loud thump. He jumped into the back of the cab, glaring at the driver, who returned the look with extra viciousness, but pressed his foot to the pedal._

 _When they arrived at King's Cross, Ed got out of the cab with unsteady legs, shaken by the driver's driving - which he was pretty sure was not within the bounds of what could be considered 'legally safe'._

 _It was with great relief that he watched the cab swerve away, before turning and shading his eyes against the sun, taking in the train station. Grinning, Ed stepped forward._

. . .

"Great!" James shouted, "I've got Alchemy first class!" His excitement earned stares from all over the Great Hall. Not that he cared - although, to his disappointment, Lily did not look away from her friends, with whom she was currently talking to.

"Dammit," Ed groaned, "Me too."

"Aren't you excited?" James asked, eyes shining with anticipation. He had looked forward to this since he'd told his father about the rumors of an Alchemy class. His father had smiled and told him that most people considered alchemy a dead art, but a friend of his had told him stories about the true power of alchemy - which had not been relayed to James, but that he should look forward to it all the same.

"No, because Colonel Bastard is a smug bastard. Hence the name." Yawning, Ed grabbed a muffin. James wasn't that put out, and he continued to spread jam on his toast with extreme enthusiasm.

"Lily!" James exclaimed loudly again, and everyone in the Great Hall (with the exception of the first-years and Amestrians) sighed. James Potter's undying love for Lily Evans was common knowledge. The messy-haired Gryffindor ran up to the redhead, who had risen from the table, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"I didn't see you at dinner, but never mind!" he grinned, then kneeled dramatically. "Lily Evans, will you go out with me?"

"No. Go away, James!" The ginger pulled him to his feet and pushed him back towards the Marauders and Ed. He turned to them with a disappointed groan. "Rejected again."

"What is this, the three-hundred-fiftieth time?" Sirius asked, sticking his tongue out at James.

"I thought it was the five-hundred-twelfth," commented Peter.

Ed reached for a silver jug and was about to pour himself a drink before he stopped and glared vehemently at it.

"What?" Sirius asked, who'd been keeping an eye on Ed since dinner.

"It's milk." Loathing filled Ed's voice, and James couldn't help but notice that his golden eyes were filled with a hatred that James had never seen before. It seemed like the kind of feeling you would reserve for someone who'd murdered your family, not, well, milk. Thinking about Ed's unusual eyes reminded James of the conversation they'd had earlier.

. . .

 _"Wake up, Ed!" James yelled, throwing open Ed's curtains. Strangely enough, the blonde was fully clothed, and still snoring, despite the noise. The black-haired teen shook Ed until the blonde groaned and opened his eyes._

 _"Dammit," he muttered, tears shining in his eyes, "I woke up."_

 _Quiet for a moment, James burst out laughing. "You're about to cry over that?"_

 _"Don't laugh at me," Ed threw a pillow at him, "It's a tragedy."_

 _James chuckled, before Remus coughed a little._

 _"Oh yeah, Ed, Moony over there would like to ask you something. D'you mind?"_

 _Ed shrugged, now cross-legged on the bed, and regretfully said, "I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep again. Ask away."_

 _Remus sighed with relief and came over to sit on the bed next to Ed's. "Are you a werewolf?"_

 _Ed stared at him for a moment, and then exploded with laughter. "Me...a werewolf?"_

 _Immediately the werewolf blushed a deep red. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean...er…!" This just made Ed laugh harder. After his laughter faded, Remus explained, "I just thought you were a werewolf because of your eyes…" He chuckled awkwardly._

 _"My eyes?" Ed asked._

 _"Well, a few werewolves have golden eyes," Remus said, sheepish, "It's not very common, but…It's even rarer among non-werewolves."_

 _Ed's eyes narrowed a bit as he leaned back and smiled. "Nah, it's just something that runs in my family." His stomach growled, and he rubbed it, his expression turning sheepish. "Do you think you guys could show me to where all the food is? I'm starving!"_

. . .

"Fullmetal! How are you adjusting to," Mustang's voice became very smug, "student life?" He was standing at the front of the classroom and had addressed Ed as he'd walked in shortly after James and Peter, who also had Alchemy first.

"Ha! How are you going to teach this class," Ed retorted, "without burning anything? What did Hawkeye say, 'anything stupid', right?" He flopped into a seat next to James and Peter, looking pleased with himself.

"Mate, are you really allowed to talk to your superior like that?" James whispered, running a hand through his dark hair. "And what was that about 'adjusting to student life'?"

"I haven't been to school in years," Ed told them casually, putting his feet up on the desk and pulling a notebook and pen out of his coat.

Peter gasped. "Years?!"

James whistled lowly.

"I didn't really see a point in it. We had our bastard father's books and then," he shuddered, "Izumi. The things she did to us…"

"Us?" James asked, concerned,

"My brother, Al, and I."

"Oh. What did she do?"

"A lot of things, but the one that comes most vividly to mind is when we first started training under her. She took us to an abandoned island and left us there for a month."

They were stopped from asking any more questions when Mustang clapped his hands and barked, "In case you midgets-" Ed growled, "-didn't know, I'm Colonel Roy Mustang. I'm going to be your Alchemy professor this year, which means you all-" he gestured broadly to the class, "-are now my minions."

He was met with silence.

"Does anyone have any assumptions as to what alchemy is?"

A hand was raised.

"Yes. You there." Mustang pointed to a nervous-looking Slytherin with curly black hair.

"Isn't alchemy a dead magic? The only things you could do with it was turn lead to gold - and make the Philosopher's stone," the Slytherin said, not sounding very sure of herself.

At this, both Amestrian's faces darkened with disappointment, and Mustang said, "Nearly everything about that answer was wrong. First, alchemy is a science, not a magic. It's based on chemical formulas, scientific knowledge and theories, logic, and rigid laws. Second, you can do a lot more with alchemy than make gold out of lead. That is possible, but illegal. It's bad for the economy. And the Philosopher's Stone - well, believe me when I say that it is something best left alone."

Ed watched Mustang teach, rather impressed. Who knew the smug bastard could actually handle a teaching position? But they were only so far in. Ed would've bet his arm that Mustang wouldn't be so capable later.

"Any more, probably equally idiotic, guesses?"

Silence.

"I'd better tell you all what alchemy is, then. It's a science, as I've already told you, with which you can dramatically or subtly alter a material, using natural energy." He paused, seeing a hand raised high. Sighing, he asked, "Yes?"

"Why do we need alchemy, then, if we've already got transfiguration?"

"Because, unlike magic, you don't need a pretty stick. All you need is a writing utensil - preferably chalk." Faint gasps were heard.

Smirking, as he did so often, Mustang turned to the chalkboard and began writing (Comprehension, Deconstruction, Reconstruction), narrating as he did so.

"Now, there are laws in alchemy. The first and foremost being equivalent exchange. Every alchemist knows this. We cannot gain anything without giving something of equal value in return. That's all you need to know for now. Next is the three parts of alchemy. Comprehension, deconstruction, and reconstruction. Do you idiots understand so far?"

"Hey, Colonel, you're not half as bad at this as I thought you'd be. I'm surprised nothing's on fire yet." Ed called.

"You will be," the Colonel said, "If you keep on interrupting, Fullmetal. Now shut up." He directed his attention back to the class, all of whom were staring at Ed like he was some sort of immense oddity - which he was. "I'll explain the individual steps. To start, comprehension, which I assume will take a while for you scientifically ignorant wizards to master. To succeed at performing alchemy, you need to have an understanding of the structure and properties of the atomic makeup of the thing you have the intent of altering, including the flow of energy through the material."

When the man paused to collect his thoughts again, James moaned quietly. "I'm already lost and we haven't even got halfway through the lesson."

"Deconstruction," the Amestrian continued, "is using energy to break down the material to a more malleable state so it's easily reconstructed into something else. And lastly, there is reconstruction, which is simply continuing the flow of energy to reshape the material. Now, you're probably trying to sort through your tiny, cluttered little teenage minds to remember when I said anything about how to direct the energy. I didn't, so stop straining your brain cells."

He turned back to the chalkboard and drew a perfect circle. " You direct the energy with an alchemical array. Different symbols correspond to different elements, so correctly drawing the array is critical. The essential part of the array is the circle, which is the main circuit through which energy flows. I'll stop here before you fry your brains, so just work on drawing perfect circles for a while."

Five minutes before class ended, Mustang shouted, "Stop! You're done, brats. To satisfy your puny brains, I'll demonstrate some alchemy."

Immediately the class perked up, with the sole exception of Ed, who was leaning precariously back in his chair and snoring lightly.

Mustang snapped his fingers, sending a blossom of flame into the air. A chorus of 'whoa's and 'cool's was heard as the students watched excitedly.

Someone raised their hand, and blurted out, "Sir - Colonel - how'd you do that without an array?"

"I didn't. Instead of drawing an array each time you'd like to manipulate matter, many alchemists have an area of specialty and have specific arrays either tattooed into their skin or embroidered onto clothing, like my gloves." He showed the arrays on the backs of his gloves.

"Now get lost, idiots. Class dismissed."

* * *

 **I'm proud of the way that ended. Again, thank you for reading, and please review!**

 **See y'all later!**


	3. I'd Call You a Genius

**Hello again! I updated! This chapter is a filler - sort of - in which the Marauders are curious. I didn't change much.**

 **I did have a breakthrough, though, and I think things will go well. Now that this fic has a clear direction (to me, at least), it should be easier to write.**

 **(Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or HP.)**

* * *

 _ **I'd Call You a Genius**_ _ **,**_ _ **Except I'm in the Room**_

* * *

The rest of the first day passed uneventfully, well, as uneventfully as it could get when you mix Edward Elric and magic. Aside from Alchemy, Ed had Arithmancy, History of Magic, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, the last of which was spent as a study hour because the professor was absent.

The next day was different. Sirius, this time, shook the blonde awake. Instead of nearly crying, Ed rose, reluctant. His time in Diagon Alley had gotten him accustomed to rising late, and now he had to get back to his disciplined sleep cycle. Not only that - he needed someplace to work out. Even if he was on a prolonged research trip (vacation), getting out of shape was unacceptable.

At breakfast, James snatched up Ed's schedule, which he was carrying around in order to remember his classes.

"You have a break instead of fifth period? Great, Padfoot and Wormtail and I have it off, too! D'you wanna play some Quidditch?"

"What's that?" Ed asked, sticking a straw into a glass of juice.

"What's that? _What's that?_ " James pressed his hand against his chest, pretending to be offended. "It's only the best wizarding sport in existence! C'mon, d'you wanna try it out?"

The blonde paused and contemplated it. It sounded fun, and he had nothing better to do; he'd already finished his homework. The only problem was whether or not it involved magic. He, not having any, would be unable to participate if that were the case. "Sure," he replied.

First period was spent in Transfiguration, which did not go well for Ed. It started bad and got worse. He was late trying to find classroom 1B, which was on the ground floor by the Middle Courtyard. By the time the blonde skidded into the classroom, Professor McGonagall had just deposited a guinea fowl on each student's desk. (They were, of course, caged.)

"You're late, Mr Elric."

"Sorry!" he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I got lost. This school is so damn big!"

"Language, Mr Elric! Sit down. Five points from Gryffindor," the professor turned her attention back to the class. "Now, take out your wands. You will be turning guinea fowl," she gestured to the large, caged birds, "into guinea pigs. The incantation is-"

Ed stood up abruptly, making his chair fall over with a bang. His eyes were wide with horror.

"What is it, Mr Elric?" McGonagall asked, half-concerned and half-irritated.

"That's twisted!" he shouted, slamming a fist into his desk. "How could you think this is okay, dammit?!"

"Mr Elric!" the professor snapped, "The guinea fowl will be perfectly fine! Allow me to demonstrate," and she waved her wand at one of the birds, nonverbally incanting. In a matter of seconds, it was a guinea pig. With another wave of her wand, the guinea pig reverted to its original state.

She'd incorrectly assumed that this would pacify Ed; a number of students had had the same problem with Transfiguration in the past and a display of the harmless process had soothed their qualms.

It did quite the opposite for Ed; now, instead of looking angry, he looked horrified. "Nina!" the blonde whispered, now seeing something the rest of them didn't, "Nina - no - it wasn't - how could he-?! That bastard!"

"Remus," Professor McGonagall addressed the werewolf, who'd been staring worriedly at the Amestrian, "could you escort Mr Elric to the hospital wing?"

Her brow furrowed with confusion and concern as she watched the brunet take Ed, who was now lost in some horrid place in his mind, by the shoulders and walk him out of the classroom. Reminding herself to discuss it with Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore later, McGonagall called the class back to attention and resumed the lesson.

. . .

"Nina! NINA!" Ed's voice cracked as he jolted upright. Taking a few deep breaths, he looked around and found himself in a cot with white sheets, in a room that vaguely resembled a hospital. It was unfortunate how familiar it felt.

"Whoa, Ed, mate, you alright?" James asked. The Marauders were crowded around the foot of his bed.

"Yeah," he responded, looking rather puzzled, "Why are you here?" He'd only known the energetic, black-haired wizard for two days, so there was no reason for him to be there.

"You're a likable guy," James told him, eyes glinting mischievously, "And I reckon you'd be good for a few pranks."

Remus shoved the dark-haired wizard. "We were worried about you. Who's Nina?"

Ed's small grin fell away, and his eyes turned sad. "Just someone from a long time ago. It's nothing."

"You sure you don't want to talk about it?" Sirius asked.

"I said, it's nothing. You wizards are damn pushy." Ed growled, then looked around once again. "Where am I?"

"The hospital wing," Peter told him (rather nervously, it seemed to be a personality trait), "Moony took you here after you freaked out in Transfiguration."

"Damn wizards, messing with natural laws," Ed muttered, scowling.

"Huh?" James asked.

"Nothing. Can I go now? I want to-"

"Fullmetal!" Colonel Mustang burst into the room, a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey trailing closely behind. "I heard about what happened in Professor McGonagall's class. Are you an idiot? We're here on a diplomatic mission, so we can't have you doing reckless things like you usually do."

"Colonel Bastard, why the hell am I supposed to attend these classes? I can't even use magic!" Ed scowled.

"Wait, you can't use magic?" Remus asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah," the blonde said, "now can I go? I want to check out the library."

Madam Pomfrey tutted. "You should stay a while lon-" Mustang held up a hand. "Shorty here would sneak out anyway. Let him-"

The recent trend of being cut off lived up to its reputation when Ed yelled, "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE COULD BE CRUSHED UNDER A SHOE?!"

Mustang smirked, and Madam Pomfrey went pale. "Language, young man!"

Ed ignored her and swung his legs over the side of the bed, landing with an unnaturally heavy _thump_. "I'll be in the library," he announced to no one in particular. Tugging his white gloves more securely on his hands, Ed strolled out of the room.

. . .

Ed had been submerged in the library, only showing up, hurried-looking and disoriented, to his classes, before rushing off to the library again.

Somehow, Ed had at least one of the Marauders in each of his classes; Sirius in History of Magic, which Ed fell asleep in, as did the rest of the class, Peter and Remus in Potions (in which Slughorn showered Ed with praise for his skill at potion-making. When asked, he merely responded, "I understand science."), and Defense Against the Dark Arts with all of the Marauders.

Unlike the previous class, Professor Michaelis was present. Standing tall at the front of the classroom in elegant black robes, she scanned them all with keen eyes.

"Today I'll be informing you of what we'll be covering over the course of the year. The previous teacher's letter says you all have a thorough understanding of the spellwork required up to this year, and I will continue that line of education. Your knowledge of the Dark creatures, however, is severely lacking. We'll spend the first two months catching up, ending with boggarts. You might want to read up on those; I've seen some wizards with incredible spell knowledge but little creature knowledge brought to their knees by what they've seen. Luckily, I doubt that so early in your life you've developed such fears."

After that short speech, she passed out tests to see how advanced their knowledge was. The rest of the class passed in silence, Professor Michaelis's icy gaze discouraging any troublemaking - for that day, at least.

. . .

"He's a bit strange," Peter said, breaking the silence that they'd been submerged in as they sat in their dorm room after dinner. Ed was still in the library.

"Who, Ed?" James asked, idly playing with a Snitch. His dark hair was messy (as usual), and he was draped haphazardly across his bed.

"Who else? You're right, Wormtail, he's weird. He can't use magic, Transfiguration makes him flip out...and who here's ever heard of Amestris?" Lounging against James's bed, Sirius was sketching on a spare piece of parchment, grinning evilly.

"How could he come here if they couldn't do magic? Why're they here in the first place?" Peter asked, perched on his bed with his half-finished Potions essay in front of him

"Weren't you listening? They're here on a diplomatic mission - Amestris is a military nation and probably wants the Ministry to help them with something. Hogwarts is probably considered a place of cultural relevance, not to mention that Professor Dumbledore is an immensely powerful wizard. That's not what's odd, though," Remus flipped the page of his book absently, "I think what's odd is his reaction to transfiguration, his gloves, his air of secrecy. I couldn't find anything on Amestris in the library, but I could only look for so long. Still, it's queer. Why wouldn't he tell us who Nina was? Why doesn't he ever change his clothes, or at least take off his gloves and boots?"

"Maybe he's got terrible scars. Maybe he's got bad memories about Nina - he is part of the military after all. It's perfectly explainable," Sirius said, shrugging.

"Why hasn't he been to school in years? Why does Professor - Colonel - Mustang call him Fullmetal?" Remus ignored his friend's suggestions, his curiosity overflowing, "and I looked up the Philosopher's Stone, and the symbol on Ed's coat - nothing."

"Why don't we ask him when he gets back?" James suggested before bursting into malicious laughter; Sirius had just shown him the rather unflattering caricatures of their professors and least favorite Slytherins (meaning: Severus Snape) that he'd drawn.

Not a moment after he said it, Ed wearily trudged in, collapsing on his bed, arms full of dusty tomes.

"How was the library?" Remus queried, shutting his book with a small sigh.

Ed was silent, then he flipped over and sat up. Yawning, he replied, "Amazing! There were so many books! Sciezka would be like a child on a sugar high!"

"Who's Sciezka?" James asked lazily, pocketing the Snitch.

"A friend back in the military. She's got photographic memory, which helped us a lot with the- never mind." Ed looked down at a silver pocket watch, eyes dark with memories.

Remus narrowed his eyes. Then he asked another question. "Why does Colonel Mustang call you Fullmetal? That's an odd nickname."

Ed paused for a moment, considering. "Well, that's a title I carry in the military. It's a long story, and I'm too tired to tell it. Besides, why do you call each other Wormtail, Padfoot, Moony, and Prongs?"

He paused, then said, "I'm going to sleep now. You probably need sleep, too." With that, he pulled his curtains closed around him and his pile of books.

James glanced around at his friends. When they all nodded, he got up and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak from beneath his bed. In one swift movement, he had the Cloak draped neatly over the four of them (an uncomfortable fit, and they had to walk carefully to avoid exposing themselves), and they exited the room.

. . .

They were sitting in the Room of Requirement, which had arranged itself to look like a grassy clearing, a few trees scattered about. James was sitting on a swing, which was knotted around a sturdy tree branch. Sirius and Peter were leaning against its trunk. Remus, however, was pacing.

"He looked at me when he said it! Does he know? How could he know? It doesn't make sense..!" He ran his hands through his sandy brown hair.

James held up a hand. "You're jumping to conclusions. Calm down, Moony. It's probably just coincidence. He never even knew about magic a while ago!" He was different from his usual carefree self; his brown eyes were serious and his hands were resting on the swing's ropes, white-knuckled. "It frustrates me, though! I can't figure him out! It _is_ odd that he noticed our nicknames so soon."

The dark-haired teen turned to Sirius and Peter, flicking his glance to Remus. "Say, d'you wanna find out his secrets?"

They gave him varying responses, all positive.

"Great," he grinned, eyes shining with mischievous light.

. . .

" _You will be turning these guinea fowl into guinea pigs," McGonagall said, advancing towards him. In one hand was a caged guinea fowl, the large-bodied bird squawking in alarm. With her free hand, she pulled out her wand. "The incantation is-"_

 _McGonagall turned into Nina, tiny and cute and smiling, holding a snowball in her small gloved hands. Alexander was lounging beside her in the snow, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he surveyed his surroundings happily._

" _Big brother!" she called eagerly. "D'you wanna play?" She held up the snowball eagerly, eyes shining with excitement._

" _Sure," he replied, a mix of nostalgia, sadness, and warmth swirling in his chest. He crouched down, balling snow in his hands. "Let's play, Ni-"_

" _Play?" she asked again, voice broken. "Big brother, play?"_

 _Breath catching, heart hammering frantically, Ed looked up. His golden eyes widened with horror as he saw her, or rather, what her father had made her into. A large white dog with a long, trailing mane of dark hair, eyes full of fear and innocent cluelessness._

" _N-Nina," he breathed, "Nina!" They were still in the snow, cold seeping into Ed's knees. It crawled up his skin, filling him with an icy feeling._

" _Don't you see, Ed? We're the same!" Shou's voice rang out from behind him. The golden-haired alchemist spun around immediately._

" _No, we're not, you bastard!" Ed raced towards him, fury pushing him quickly across the snow. He swung his fist up, preparing to punch him._

 _The man fell down in a burst of blood, sprawled out in a blossom of red. Thunder crashed, and Nina/Alexander appeared next to Shou, white fur stained a horrid rust-crimson color. Ed pulled in a sharp, shaky breath. "Dammit! Dammit!"_

" _Ed!" At first he didn't recognize the voice. "Ed! Ed! Ed, wake-"_

His eyes snapped open. "-up!" James was leaning over him, hands on his shoulders. "You okay, mate? You were shouting in your sleep…"

"I was?" Ed asked blearily, "Huh."

"Hey, we never got to play Quidditch can't play, though - no magic, but d'you wanna watch?" James grinned, concealing his concern. His friend, obviously, was not okay, but James knew better than to push it.

Ed turned his head towards him, hand on his forehead. "Why not?"

He shrugged and stood up, leading the way out of the room.

Spurred on by a spurt of reckless curiosity, however, James rushed forward to catch up to the golden-haired teen. "Hey, Ed, why do you wear those gloves?"

* * *

 **And that's the end!**

 **Thank you, all those who followed, favorited, and reviewed.**

 **Thank you for reading, and please review.**

 **Until next time!**


	4. Patience is for Wimps

**Hello again! I have nearly completely overhauled this chapter. I'm gutting this story, but I'll try to keep the important bits.**

 **Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited!**

 **(Disclaimer: Don't own HP or FMA.)**

* * *

 _ **Patience is for Wimps**_

* * *

"Hey, Ed, why do you wear those gloves?"

Ed froze.

" _I am what you call the world. Or perhaps the Universe, or perhaps God, or perhaps Truth, or perhaps all, or perhaps one, and I am also you."_

"Oh - it's just a habit," Ed told him, turning around quickly, eyes bright in the dimly illuminated dorm, a sheepish grin on his face.

"I- I was just curious," James said, relieved that Ed hadn't reacted badly. He ran a hand through his hair.

The golden-eyed Gryffindor looked at James's open and slightly abashed face.

" _Take my leg! Take my arm! Take my heart! Just give me back my brother, he's all I have left!"_

He smiled. James, although not much like the man, reminded him of Maes. Honest, straightforward - a mix of bitterness and warmth spread through his chest. Deciding to embrace the lighter side of his memories, he turned sharply on his heel and walked out of the dorm room.  
"You coming?"

. . .

Sirius watched as Ed strolled into the Great Hall, James close behind. He was still in that strange clothing - Sirius wondered for the millionth time why the professors hadn't reprimanded him for that. It must have had something to do with the fragile ties between Amestris - wherever in Merlin's name that was - and the Wizarding community.

Honestly, Sirius wasn't sure how he felt about the golden-haired enigma. Ed was very likable. He was funny, pugnacious (especially when it came to his height, Sirius noticed), and seemed very open. Unless you asked him about his past. Then he clammed up.

And then there was the fact that the short fifteen-year-old was in the military. It unnerved Sirius, stirring up memories of his family's affinity for the Death Eaters, a veritable army themselves. Would he end up there? Would Regulus?

"Padfoot!" James called, beaming. His messy-haired friend was as cheerful as ever - Sirius remembered their first meeting.

. . .

" _You're Black - Sirius Black, right?" A boy his own age asked him, dark eyes wide and a small grin curving his lips. They were standing outside of_ Quality Quidditch Supplies _, admiring the display of broomsticks and colorful Quidditch robes._

 _Behind James stood a house elf - clean, young, and dressed in a square of fine silk curtain, draped around it like a toga. One one corner the coat of arms for the Potter family was embossed. In the house elf's hands was a sheet of parchment - a list - and a bag hung from its wrist._

" _Yeah," he said, trying desperately to recall the name of the only Potter heir. "You're Potter...um, Jack? Jack Potter?"_

 _The Potter boy looked indignant. "It's James, thank you very much. I'll make sure that your parents know about your blatant disrespect of your peers!" He made as if to walk away, then stopped, turned to Sirius, and began to laugh._

" _Your expression - priceless!" James caught his breath and extended a hand._

 _Hesitant, Sirius took it._

" _I'm here to pick up some things for school," James said conversationally, "Which is ridiculous, since it's only January - school doesn't start for another nine months. On the bright side, mum and dad gave me a bit of spending money," - he held up a rather full bag of money - "to use as I please. How about you?"_

" _My parents are meeting with someone, some business they have to take care of," Sirius said, wrinkling his nose. His family was always involved in something Dark - an affiliation he wasn't entirely proud of._

 _The house elf cleared its throat, timid, and spoke, "Young Master, your parents are expecting you home within the hour."_

 _James' expression dropped a bit. "I guess I've got to get going, then - lots of stuff to buy - but I expect I'll see you around, Sirius. Pleasure meeting you."_

" _Alright," Sirius said, a grin spreading across his face, "see you around, James."_

. . .

"What is it, Prongs?" he replied, grinning at his friend's infectious attitude.

James dropped into the seat next to him, grabbing a croissant from a nearby platter. "You want to play Quidditch in our free hour? Our friend here," - he gestured to Ed - "hasn't got a clue what it is, and I figured we might as well show off our superior skills to him. The first official match isn't in _ages!_ "

"Why not?" agreed Sirius, shooting a glance at Ed, who was reading a book and eating pancakes at a ridiculous pace. He didn't even know Hogwarts served pancakes.

Remus, who'd been silently watching their exchange, smiled.

"I'm going to make sure," announced James, determination blazing in his eyes. Standing up, he strode over to the reclusive blonde. "Will you come at lunch? For Quidditch, I mean." He stood in a determined pose; hands balled into loose fists and set against his hips, chin up, challenging the blonde to turn him down.

Sirius thought that was a smidge overkill, but that was James for you.

"I already said I would, didn't I?" Ed replied blandly, still reading. James stood there, and they remained that way a tad too long, the silence growing awkward. Finally, the little antenna-like bit of hair sticking up on Ed's head twitched and the blonde turned slowly. "What?"

Sirius chuckled as he watched James's face change as the dark-haired Chaser realized that he did not, in fact, have a reason to continue standing there. "Er, well, you're sure you're coming?"

Voice tinged with irritation, Ed said, "I'm coming, but maybe I won't if you keep asking."

. . .

"That's amazing," Ed muttered, running one hand over the broomstick. Sirius and James had just shown off by playing a mini-match with the Quaffle - James had access to the balls, being captain of the team.

James and Sirius watched, amused, as Ed studied the broomstick, muttering random calculations. The blonde quieted and handed the broom back to James, disappointed. "I can't figure it out - how does it work? I know it's magic, but...scientifically speaking…" he trailed off.

Their days turned to weeks, and the students of Hogwarts settled in again. Ed managed, somehow, to not draw loads of attention to himself - other than the shouting that occurred whenever someone made jabs about his height, his amazing talent at Potions ('You're better than Lily Evans, dear boy,' Slughorn had chortled one day, 'It's a shame you're already taken by Amestris' government!'), and his uneasiness with Transfiguration.

Their time was mainly a jovial time - they'd begun their pranks and Ed wasn't half bad. However, more and more often, letters arrived, articles were written in newspapers. A powerful Dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, who'd been steadily gaining power in the last two or three years, was attacking frequently. His minions - Death Eaters - were killing Muggles and Muggle-borns, wreaking havoc all across England.

He wasn't nearly as powerful as Grindelwald had been, it seemed, and the students of Hogwarts, sheltered as they were, put him out of their minds easily. Ed took note of each attack; he'd been in a war before, and it was never pretty.

On October 3rd, he received a number of letters. He'd been looking gloomy all morning, but after reading the letters, his expression brightened considerably.

As time passed, the Marauders learned a bit more about him, and in return, he learned more about them - 'Equivalent Exchange', he said.

. . .

Halloween arrived. As they walked down to breakfast, James began talking about the upcoming party that Slughorn was hosting.

"Why?" Ed asked, eyes on a few bats flying overhead.

"It's a Halloween party," James said. The Marauders were all members of the Slug Club; James and Sirius were both sons of wealthy families, Remus was studious and excelled in several classes, and Peter was there by way of connection to the other three. Ed, of course, had been invited to the Slug Club - he was a representative from a fairly powerful nation, and immensely skilled at Potions.

However, only James and Remus bothered to attend; Peter was scared of Slughorn, since the man didn't particularly like him, and it was obvious; Ed and Sirius just didn't care.

Ed had first discovered Halloween a few days ago, when he overheard a group of students talking about it. He'd then turned to Remus and asked him what it was. Needless to say, the Marauders had been surprised to find that Amestris didn't have nearly as many holidays as England.

"Do I have to go?" Ed groaned at lunch, following James's declaration that all five were attending.

James smirked, "Yes. We're going." He ran a hand through his hair - more of a habit than anything, at this point. He'd begun wearing glasses recently, since his eyesight was getting worse, and they suited him.

"If you go to this one, we won't make you go to the Valentines Day one," Sirius told him, straight-faced.

Ed, slowly, grudgingly, as if chains were restraining it, held out his hand. "Fine."

"Great. It's at six, same place we have Slug Club in," Remus said, smiling wearily. If anything, he looked more tired than usual.

They all took seats at the Gryffindor table. Ed was reaching for a plate of bacon when Colonel Mustang came up to him, wearing his uniform - which he hadn't done since since their very first day at Hogwarts - and looking resigned.

"I've received orders from the Fuhrer," he sighed, "We have to go to Professor Slughorn's Halloween party. There are going to be several important Ministry officials there, and attending is a good way to forge stronger diplomatic bonds, he says. Wear your uniform, Fullmetal."

Ed groaned.

"Oh, and Fullmetal, Fuhrer Grumman wanted me to give this to you in person," the Colonel smirked, handing Ed a thick-looking envelope.

The blonde Amestrian eyed it suspiciously, then opened it and pulled a sheet of paper out. "'Major Edward Elric,'" he read aloud, "'I am pleased to announce your promotion to Colonel, in recognition of your part in the Promised Day. Enclosed is your shoulder insignia. A ceremony will not take place.'

"What a load of bullcrap!" Ed scowled, stuffing his letter in a pocket. "I'll wear the uniform, Colonel Bastard."

Mustang smirked again. "Actually," he gestured to each shoulder, "I'm General now, squirt."

He turned on his heel and walked away before Ed could start yelling at him about his height.

"You should be grateful you can still see," Ed muttered so quietly that not even Remus, who was sitting next to him, heard him.

The Promised Day, the day he had defeated Father and got Al's body back, had also taken Roy's eyesight. Ed had activated a human transmutation array so that he could bring his brother's body back, and offered up his Gate to do so. Truth, smiling as he always did, had proposed a different deal; his arm for Roy's eyesight, and part of his life for Al's body.

(" _Interesting deal, Mr. Al-che-mist," Truth grinned, waggling a finger at him, "but I don't want to. How about this instead; you give up your newly recovered arm and part of your life, and I'll give you back your brother's body, and the Flame Alchemist's eyesight."_

 _Ed paused, thinking. "How much of my life?"_

" _Forty years, give or take. You'll live to be, say, fifty, sixty? Can't give out too many secrets! You're still young, Mr Al-che-mist," Truth's grin widened._

 _He sighed. "I accept your deal. Give me back my brother's body."_ )

Now, Al was in Resembool, recovering under the Rockbell's care, Roy could see, and Ed had thirty-four years left to live. Not that Al or Winry knew; he'd tell them when the time came.

"What's wrong, Ed?" James asked, shaking the blonde's shoulder, "You just got promoted, yeah?"

"It's not that - I couldn't care less about promotions. I was just thinking about something that happened a while ago."

James opened his mouth, but Sirius nudged him and whispered, "Don't push it, mate."

. . .

That evening, fifteen 'til six, Ed outside of the Gryffindor common room, dressed in his stiff blue uniform, his Colonel insignia on his shoulders, and a frown on his face.

Remus came out of the door, dressed in the finest clothing he owned - something that James had bought for him, a small grin on his face. Peter stumbled out behind him, dressed in a set of unflattering robes, his hair slicked back.

Upon seeing Ed, they were surprised. He looked older in his uniform, and it really drove home the fact that this boy, who was the same age as them, was in the military.

James and Sirius exited last, finding the other three sixteen-year-olds waiting outside for them. Both boys were dressed in fine robes - James's deep blue and Sirius's dark purple-black.

"Blimey, Ed," James said, looking his friend up and down, "You're really in the military. Looks good on you."

Ed scowled. "It's uncomfortable, and reminds me that I'm a dog of the military. Let's get this over with."

He turned on his heel and set off towards Slughorn's office, Peter trailing behind him. Sirius, James, and Remus all exchanged glances, then headed after him. "Anyone else get the feeling that Ed doesn't like parties?" Sirius asked, eyes on the blonde's retreating back.

They all arrived one minute before six, and Slughorn welcomed them into his office-turned-party with a smile. "Good to see you all - ah, Ed, let me introduce you to Julian Kooper, he's Head of Magical Sports and Games - helps organize the Quidditch World Cups every few years, you know - they were in Spain, lovely place, last year."

He took Ed by the arm and led him off. James spotted Lily Evans and ran over to charm her - "She's definitely softened since last year," James said, "She smiled at me just last week, I'm sure of it!" - leaving Remus, Sirius, and Peter to stand in the entrance, feeling awkward.

Professor Slughorn's office was magically enhanced to be large, and it was draped in orange, decorative cobwebs spanning the ceiling and sparkling, several bats fluttering around. There were a large number of floating candles and jack-o'-lanterns, and ghosts milled around, making conversation with the people there - students, Ministry officials, store-owners, Quidditch players, and many more.

At last Slughorn appeared again, nodding to himself, and saw the three waiting there. "Well, what are you boys waiting for? I've got lots of important people for you to meet. Enjoy yourselves, then!"

The plump professor disappeared once again into the crowd, and the three decided to go and find Ed.

When they did find him, the blonde was talking to a dark-haired man wearing thick glasses. As they drew nearer, Peter mumbled something about 'food' and headed over to the refreshments table.

"-does that really matter? The composition of steel is a suitable fit, you wouldn't have to change much," the wizard was saying, gesturing with his hands.

"That doesn't change the fact that alchemy is a precise art - you get one bit wrong, it rebounds. Trust me, you don't want that to happen," Ed said, voice heavy.

The wizard pondered that for a moment, then said, "You couldn't put me in touch with one of your State Alchemists? They'd be a great help to my research…"

The Amestrian frowned, "I don't need to put you in touch with one - I'm one - but that's beside to point. State Alchemists -"

"You're one? How old are you?" the wizard interjected.

"Sixteen. Listen, State Alchemists are strictly military officials. You'd have to go to the higher-ups, although I doubt-"

"Sixteen?" the man asked, incredulous, "and a State Alchemist?"

Ed pulled a pocket watch out and showed it to the man. "As I was saying, State Alchemists are in short supply, after Scar, and now, with conflict brewing on the borders with Drachma and Aerugo, they're all busy."

At that point, Remus pulled Sirius out of earshot. "He's an alchemist? I didn't know that..."

There was a loud crash behind them, and they whipped around, just in time to see Ed snarl, "Don't look into this anymore. Philosopher's Stones are abominations," and storm off.

The table had been turned over, the wizard was sprawled on the floor, shocked, and the party was silent.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, and please review!**

 **Adios!**


	5. Always Bring a Banana to a Party

**Bonjour! This is like a whole extra chapter. I'm on a roll right now, so I'm trying to redo as many chapters as I can while I'm inspired.**

 **Thanks to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed. I'm really flattered!**

 **(Disclaimer: Don't own HP or FMA.)**

* * *

 _ **Always Bring a Banana to a Party**_

* * *

After Ed had stormed from the party, Slughorn had done damage control. ("Don't know why he did that, he's such an intelligent, level-headed young man!")

The Marauders excused themselves from the party and rushed back to the common room, where Ed was sitting in front of the fire, angry. "Bastard wants to make a Philosopher's Stone," he muttered, not hearing them enter.

"Ed?" Remus asked, "We - Sirius and I - heard your conversation with him. What happened?"

The blonde turned to them, eyes fiery. He looked at each of them in turn, then sighed. "He was studying alchemy, and wanted one of my military's State Alchemists to help him with his research."

Remus stepped forward. "You said you're a State Alchemist - is that true?"

"Yes," Ed sighed, "That's how I got into the military. I've been studying alchemy since I was six or so, and when I was twelve I took the State Alchemy exam. I got in because I'm a genius - I can use alchemy without needing an array. I won't bother to explain it to you. That man was a beginner, and he wanted to know about the Philosopher's Stone. I know Mustang's mentioned it a few times, but he's never gone into detail."

Ed looked back at the fire for a few moments. Then, all at once, he said, "The Philosopher's Stone does more than grant eternal life - not that it really does that, either. It bypasses the law of Equivalent Exchange."

"That sounds pretty great, actually," Sirius said.

Ed's eyes darkened. "It's not. The Stone is an abomination. My brother and I researched how to make it for years - and when we found out…"

He trailed off.

"Ed?" Remus asked.

He shook his head. "I won't tell you. I'm going to bed."

. . .

The next morning, Ed seemed normal again. He glared at the milk pitcher, muttering "Little bastard - we meet again.", and went happily to double Potions.

"Very well! Oh, and excellent, as expected, Edward!" Slughorn boomed, peering into Ed's cauldron through the haze that filled the room. For some reason it was always hazy in the Potions classroom, and it creeped Ed out.

A Slytherin girl sat next to him, shooting him queer glances once in a while, which was weird. Remus and Peter sat in front of them. Thinking about them brought up another topic in Ed's mind. He'd never had friends close to his age before - besides Winry and Al. He couldn't help but wonder how Al was...he missed him, Ed realized.

With a start, Ed realized his mind had been wandering, and he returned to the present. Slughorn had returned to the front of the room, and was now sweeping his gaze over the students. When it landed on Ed, the large man gave a small smile. The events of the previous night had not affected the man's opinion of him, it seemed.

Lazily, the blonde studied the other teenagers in the classroom. It was Double Potions today, with the Slytherins. The girl next to him leaned over to another girl, across the aisle from them, and whispered something. Both of them glanced at Ed, and then broke out into fits of silent laughter. Confused and faintly irked, Ed paid them no heed and looked around. Peter and Remus were bent dutifully over their cauldrons, as was the majority of the class.

There was a small number of people who were messing about; flicking scraps of parchment at each other, snickering at murmured jokes and casting malicious glances around the room. One of them - a Slytherin - glanced over at Ed - as so many have been doing this class - and nudged one of their friends.

After class, outside of the classroom, the two Slytherins from earlier were waiting, uninviting smirks on their faces. "What the hell do you want?" Ed asked, eyes narrowing in hostility. Remus and Peter had gone ahead to lunch, and Ed was alone.

Their smirks widened, and one of them - a brunet with slanted eyes and a smattering of freckles across his nose - leaned in a bit. "Mister military here thinks he can boss us around!"

Ed sighed. "I asked, what do you want?"

The other one - this one with wavy hair and a long face - let out a little, high-pitched laugh. "Gonna go cryin' to yer mum? What're you, five?" It was nearly completely unrelated, and it pissed Ed off.

Sighing yet again, to contain his rising ire, Ed slowly raised a clenched fist until it was eye-level with the shorter of the two, the palm facing them. The blonde was thoroughly irritated now.

"Oi, shorty here thinks 'e can pick a fight wit' his fists!" The long-faced boy jeered, raising his wand. "Don't he use magic? What a bloody idjit!" He pulled in a breath, preparing to curse Ed, who looked an easy target.

Growling, Ed slammed his flesh hand, palm-first (the one he had raised earlier) into the boy's face, breaking his nose and sending him crashing down into the floor. Moving quickly, the golden-haired alchemist swung a leg out and caught the other Slytherin's shins, tripping him over. It probably wasn't a good move to pick a fight, diplomacy-wise, but dammit, they pissed him off! Besides, they 'attacked' first. It was self-defense. Kind of.

Ed pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to be in some deep shit with Mustang - not that he cared - and Winry - who was quite formidable with a wrench. He hoped she never found out. He groaned at the thought of it, because although she was back in Amestris, the lighter-haired blonde was also skilled with her words when she wanted to be, and her letters could bite! Not literally, thank Truth. At least she wasn't there in person, and he planned to keep it that way.

. . .

"You did WHAT?" A silence fell over the Great Hall. Roy Mustang had pushed back his chair with a loud screeching sound, and slammed his hands down on the solid wood of the table. Ed stood before him, looking rather sheepish.

"What's he on about?" Sirius asked through a mouthful of cereal. It was lunch, but somehow he'd managed to get cereal. It was probably due to the Marauders' frequent visits to the kitchens when they were supposed to be in bed or class. The house-elves had become quite fond of the four pranksters.

"D'you reckon he's mad that Slughorn's practically drooling over Ed?" James replied.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Remus, "if they're here on a diplomatic mission, he'd be pleased. It's got to be something else."

Just then, the doors opened and two Slytherins slunk in. One of them had a hand held to his nose, the other rubbing his back, and the other limping slightly. Madam Pomfrey had fixed them up well enough, but the pain still lingered.

"Did they get beaten up? By wh-" Remus saw them glaring at the teacher's table, and followed their gaze to Ed, "Oh. That's what Professor Mustang was angry about."

"What d'you mean?" Sirius asked. As keen as he could be at some moments, this was not one of them.

"Ed beat them up," Remus replied, before being distracted by a bowl of dried fruit slices. They were probably his favorite food, and after he'd made it known to the house-elves, they usually placed it somewhere along the table.

"B-beat them up?" stuttered Peter. He instantly paled and dropped his fork with a clatter. The mousy Gryffindor had never had much of a stomach for fights. He was quite cowardly, actually, so how he got into Gryffindor house was a bit of a mystery. But the Sorting Hat had chosen; there must have been some reason. The nervous teen's eyes darted towards the blonde who was in the middle of a heated, hushed argument with General Mustang.

Finally the General threw his hands up into the air with an expression of exasperation. Ed visibly relaxed and walked away. He strolled past the two Slytherins, who were still been standing by the doors. They shot him glares as he went by, and he returned the look with double the intensity, though it was more annoyance than hatred.

As Ed sat down next to them, James leaned over the table and asked, "Why'd you beat them up?"

"It was self-defense. They pulled their wands on me," the Amestrian said offhandedly, reaching for a slice of bread.

. . .

A week passed, when it happened. Ed broke his automail. Not that the Marauders knew about that yet, but Winry would still kill him.

They'd been walking down a staircase, when, all too late, Peter cried, "Ed! Watch out for the-"

With a startled yelp, Ed's left foot sank through the false step, making him trip, twist his leg, drop his books, and fall over. It was amazing that this hadn't happened yet, but it was bound to happen sometime.

"-false stair," Peter finished lamely.

Ed groaned. "Pull me out."

James and Sirius rushed to help, pulling him away from the step.

"Lucky we're near the hospital wing," James said conversationally, grinning.

His grin disappeared as he helped Ed stand. "Bloody hell, Ed, how much do you weigh?"

The blonde rolled his eyes. "Help me get to the hospital wing."

. . .

"Can you take your shirt off?" Madam Pomfrey asked, pulling out her wand.

Ed glanced at the Marauders. "Can they leave? There's something I don't want them to see."

Nodding, Madam Pomfrey said, "Of course. You rascals - out."

"Er, sure," they replied, and left the room.

After making sure the door was locked, Ed pulled his pants leg over his knee, exposing the automail leg.

"A prosthetic?" she gasped, hands going to her mouth, "And so advanced...how did it happen?"

"I lost it in a military raid on my town when I was eleven, nearly five and a half years ago. Amestris is very advanced in prosthetics, so I got these." He groaned. "You're going to have to get my mechanic."

Taking a look at his steel leg, which was very obviously broken, she nodded seriously, eyes still shining with sympathy. "I'll speak to Dumbledore about it."

. . .

"I've spent some time in the library," yawned Remus, "and I've found no record of Amestris...except for in the newest volume of _Wizarding History: Decades_. Apparently, two years ago Amestris and the surrounding countries, which are Creta, Aerugo, Drachma, and Xing, came out of their centuries-long isolation and began establishing political bonds with the developed countries. They're quite developed themselves, but all of those countries are still a total mystery. I really couldn't find anything on Amestris, even where it is!"

The Marauders were waiting in one corner of the common room for Ed to get back.

"I can't believe he kicked us out of the infirmary," James scowled, "What didn't he want us to see?"

"That's his business, James. Leave him alone," Remus said, looking through his Potions essay.

. . .

Madam Pomfrey asked for Albus to come, and he did. The Headmaster was curious about what she wanted him to see.

He had not expected Colonel Elric, the sixteen-year-old Amestrian, to be sitting in the infirmary, pants rolled up above his knees and jacket off, displaying incredible prosthetics - automail. He had heard of them, of course, but never seen them before.

"I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting in person, Colonel Elric," he said, extending a hand.

The golden-eyed teen studied him carefully, then took his hand. "Call me Ed. You must be Dumbledore, old man."

Albus chuckled. The genius (he'd had access to their files, and Ed was described as such) was unexpected. It was refreshing.

"Can you bring my mechanic here?" Ed asked, gesturing to his leg. "I fell through a false step and this leg got broken."

"Of course," Albus told him, "Where can we find him?"

"Her. Winry Rockbell. She lives in Resembool. She's going to kill me."

Albus smiled. "Kill you? For breaking your automail?"

Ed nodded, dread expressed clearly on his face.

"I'll invite her to come, then. Anything else, Ed?"

The blonde hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Your library's restricted section, old man. I've been researching while I'm here, and I'd like to look in there."

"Researching what?" Albus asked, curious.

"Everything. It's fascinating."

Reminded strongly of himself in his youth - intelligent, curious - Albus had one last question to ask.

"Will you try to use any of the information for Dark purposes?"

Ed shook his head, meeting his gaze firmly. His eyes burned with a passionate fire. "No. I've learned a lot in my life, and that path doesn't interest me."

Satisfied, Albus nodded and said, "I'll tell Madam Pince, then. Good day, Ed."

"Thanks, old man."

. Omake .

Roy Mustang couldn't see. Again. But this time, it was because there was a bag around his head.

"What the hell?" he asked, trying to move, and realizing that he was tied to a chair.

The bag was pulled off roughly, and his eyes widened at the sight before him.

He was on a raised platform, looking down into a crowd of torch-holding midgets with colorful hair and large cat ears. They were in a forest, and a large bonfire burned behind the mob.

One of them stepped forward. He had pink hair and a child-like face. He raised his torch towards Roy and shouted in a shockingly deep voice (Samuel L Jackson voice), "All praise the Fire God!"

In one flowing movement, the midgets fell to their knees, torches pointed at Roy. Towards the back, one tiny cat-person lit another on fire and a fight broke out.

"What the hell…?"

The deep-voiced one stepped forward. "The Fire God has spoken! 'What the hell!'"

Behind him, the kneeling mob echoed, "'What the hell!'"

"Let me go! I'm not your Fire God!"

"Our God is a humble one! Release him from his mortal shell! Free him from the constraints of his human body!" the pink-haired one shouted, pointing to another one who stepped forward, a large dagger held reverently in his hands.

"Free him!" the crowd cried, waving their torches.

The dagger-bearing cat-person mounted the platform and walked, slowly, steadily, towards Roy, who, at this point, was rather shell-shocked.

As the cat-person held the dagger to Roy's throat, the shouting swelled in volume. "Free him! Free him, and he will bless us!"

Roy snapped his fingers, grateful that he had his arrayed gloves on, and a small burst of flame singed through the ropes binding his hands. He grabbed the knife from the cat-midget, cut the binding on his leg, and ran the fuck away from there.

Since then, he has had a deep, deep dislike of cats and small people with deep voices.

And the midget cat-people? Well, saddened by the abandonment of their God, they got over it and began trying to free their other Gods.

(Alex Louis Armstrong reacted well, and by the end of his ordeal, had a devoted following of tiny cat-people. His attempted 'release' was halted when, through some backwards logic, he convinced the cat-people not to kill him. Not that he knew that they were trying to kill him.)

(They stopped after that, since their God was a beautiful, sparkly, loving one, but before they met him, they tried to free Izumi Curtis, who beat up the ones who had been sent to capture her, tamed them, and now they work part-time at her husband's store.)

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, and please review!**

 **I've never written an omake before. This is somewhat inspired by the scene in that one Ice Age movie where a group of sloths try to sacrifice Sid.**

 **Ciao!**


	6. Crisis!

**Hello! Sup, people? I am here, bringing y'all a new chapter. Thanks for being patient and sticking with my story, and thanks for following, favoriting, and reviewing!**

 **(Disclaimer: I don't own HP or FMA.)**

* * *

 _ **Crisis! I Think I've Been Run Over By a Cab!**_

* * *

It was a few days before Winry arrived, during which life progressed as normal. If you could call life at Hogwarts 'normal'. The golden-haired alchemist had asked Dumbledore why she couldn't come earlier; wizards could do that weird teleporting thing after all (that still pissed Ed off; it completely disregarded science, but then again, _everything_ pissed Ed off with these damn wizards and their magic). Dumbledore had explained that she would need time to adjust to the idea of magic (Ed scoffed and said "And I didn't?").

So by the day that Winry finally arrived, Ed was very impatient. He'd been spending the past few days limping around, keeping his leg held together by binding it with cloth, which was irritating. It restricted his movement and made stairs very awkward.

He had been eating breakfast, in a very stormy mood, when Winry walked in. She wasn't yelling or throwing wrenches as he'd expected, thank Truth. The mechanic had entered quietly, almost unnoticeably, and sat down next to him. "Ed," she said, a dangerous undertone riding in her voice, "How are you? I received the call and came as soon as I could!"

Ed flinched. He knew her well and when she used that polite voice...he was in for it later.

"Heh...hi, Winry!" He tried, and failed, to smile cheerfully, resulting in a grimace.

Just then, the Marauders sat down around the two blonde Amestrians. "Who's this, Ed?" Remus asked, looking curiously at Winry.

"This is Winry, my...childhood friend," he replied, glancing uneasily at the pleasantly smiling mechanic.

"Hi!" she said, waving a bit. "Who are they?" Winry whispered in an aside to Ed.

Relaxing a bit, he explained. "These are the guys I share my dorm with. Peter, James, Sirius, and Remus," he pointed to each in turn.

Winry nodded at each of them. "Nice to meet you all!" Then she turned her attention to the hall, looking around eagerly. "Wow! This is amazing! At first I thought that the old man was off his rocker, but I don't need any more proof now!" Turning to Ed, she added, "Al's alright. Granny's taking care of him."

Ed visibly flinched. "It would be...loud. Anyways, how long are you staying, Winry?"

"I don't know...a few days? Maybe longer, this place is so fascinating!"

It was then that James leapt up, shouting, "Merlin! We've got to get to Transfiguration!" It was true; the hall was nearly deserted, the last few students heading for the doors.

"See you, Winry," Ed said, putting on a glum expression, "I've got to go to this class or I get court-martialed." He didn't sound excited in the least.

. . .

Winry watched him go, worried about his less-than-enthusiastic attitude about his next class. The alchemist was _always_ happy to learn new information, alchemy-related or not. She shook her head, blonde ponytail swishing across her shoulders. Winry had things to do, too.

Pulling out a worn map that the old man had given her (what was his name? Dumblebore? Why was it so goddamn long?), she studied it and began to walk out of the hall, too.

Within a few minutes, Winry was standing in front of what she assumed was the alchemy classroom. Peeking through the yellowed windows, she saw that it was empty. She pushed the door open tentatively, then called, "Mustang?"

Winry heard footsteps, then a creaky door hidden somewhere behind the mess of bookshelves and miscellaneous objects opened. Another moment later and the General appeared, his hands full of crumpled papers.

"Rockbell. You're here," he remarked blandly, dropping the papers on his already haphazard desk.

"Er, yeah," said Winry, "So what did we need to talk about? I don't think I need to know anything; I'm just here to fix that idiot's arm." She balled her fists and her expression turned ominous.

Roy flinched. He did not want to be in Ed's shoes.

"This is a diplomatic mission, Rockbell, so you can't reveal anything - anything! - about Amestris. Only the Ministry needs to know any details, and minimal ones at best. Nothing about automail, and no hitting Fullmetal with a wrench. Understood?"

Winry sighed. She had _really_ wanted to hit the idiot. She sighed. "I understand. By the way, when am I going back home? I have a lot of customers waiting."

She had been in Resembool, but she was heading back to Rush Valley for a while, and people already had pre-made appointments.

Mustang turned to face the window, hands clasped behind his back. "Next week, by the latest. You'll be fixing Fullmetal's leg soon, right?"

Winry smiled and tipped her head to the side. "Yup, and to check up on his arm. That idiot can never keep his automail from breaking, which pisses me off, but it keeps Granny and me in business." They fell into a silence. Winry broke it a short while later, saying, "Can I go now?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Mustang replied, "Yes. I have those goddamn papers to grade. I'm not cut out to be a teacher."

Winry chuckled and left.

. . .

After all the classes had ended, Ed skipped dinner (he was not happy about that) and followed Winry to the hospital wing. She locked the door and motioned for him to take his pants off (he was wearing boxers underneath), looking ready to hit him once she saw the damage he had invariably done to it. There was a thudding noise, and Ed whipped around.

Winry sighed (again). It was only one of the shutters hitting the castle wall after a particularly strong gust of wind. "Ed, we're not in Amestris. Take it easy. Now, I have to fix your automail. How did you break it this time?"

"Fell through a stair," he told her.

She paused, looking up from her thorough inspection of Ed's arm. "What?" Her tone was flat, and Ed could hardly tell whether she was asking a question or not. He chuckled, rather embarrassed, scratching the back of his head.

"The staircases here move, and sometimes fake their steps. It's scientifically impossible, the step part - I mean, you could use machinery to make the stairs move, but illusions like that...the manipulation of light particles required for such a detailed illusion isn't possible, even with alchemy...I wonder how that works…"

"Ed, you're rambling. Your leg looks fine; it's only a small break. I won't even have to take your leg off." She sighed in relief, "You're lucky it wasn't too big, although you couldn't move your leg anyways. I'm surprised it's not worse."

Expecting a response, Winry looked up questioningly when she received no answer. "Ed?"

He was staring at her. Suddenly he reached out his flesh hand and poked her in the cheek. "Who are you and what have you done with Winry?"

She slapped him and pouted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not mad," he said, eyes still searching her face, "You're always mad when I break my automail." He squinted and leaned in.

Blushing slightly, Winry leaned back. "I'm not mad because it's not that bad a break. It's an easy fix."

Ed hummed, and the mechanic went back to tinkering with his leg. About ten minutes later, she sat back and stretched. "It's done."

The alchemist stretched as well, bending his neck so that it cracked satisfyingly. "That was quick."

"I keep telling you, it wasn't a serious problem. Now, I want to check your arm," she said firmly, pulling a wrench out of a pocket.

Ed took his jacket off, leaving him in a tank top and boxers, his right arm glinting in the light.

"It looks fine," Winry said, "a bit worn, but that's to be expected."

Relieved, the alchemist pulled his pants and jacket back on. She hadn't yelled at him, which was a first, although the wrench in her hand made him uneasy.

"Hey, do you want to go to the library? I haven't been yet." Winry stood up, brushed off her pants, and offered Ed one of her hands. He took it and stood up, not noticing the slight red dusting on her cheeks.

. . .

James let out a long breath as he slipped off the Invisibility Cloak. "What in Merlin's name was that? Ed has metal - metal limbs!"

"I think it was called 'automail'," Remus supplied.

"Who cares what it's called?" Sirius burst out, "He's got a prosthetic far beyond any of the Wizarding or Muggle ones I've ever seen!" The black-haired teen looked stressed, confused, and curious. "I'd like to take it apart. Motorcycles have always been more of my thing, but those…"

"Now we know why he was wearing those gloves," said Remus, disregarding Sirius's comment, "But why was he hiding it from us? Is he embarrassed?"

Peter answered, stammering, "D-do you really think th-that Ed, of all pe-people would be embarrassed by a - a metal arm?" The mousy Gryffindor twisted his own hands nervously, looking at them uneasily, as if one of his own would suddenly become metal, too.

Feeling an inviting breeze, James leaned out of the very window that he'd knocked in surprise when Ed's 'automail' had been revealed, which reminded him of the conversation he'd heard shortly after.

" _Ed, we're not in Amestris. Take it easy."_

How dangerous was Amestris? Sixteen-year-olds with full metal arms, militaries that allowed teens to enroll, and the kind of place that made people jump at nearly any noise.

"What is it, Prongs?" Sirius asked, breaking off a conversation with Peter, which had left the timid, round-faced Gryffindor looking very puzzled. The dark-haired teen had seen the pensive look on James's face.

"I was wondering what kind of a place Amestris is. Ed and Prof- General Mustang and Winry are all kind of odd." the messy-haired Chaser replied, brows furrowed.

"Sure, but d'you think that dinner's still going on? I'm starved."

James shot his friend a look. "You're asking about dinner when we know the way to the kitchens better than we know each other?"

Both dark-haired boys stared at one another for a moment before they started laughing.

. . .

The next morning, Ed was woken up by Winry. She stood over him, the sun shining with a silvery light behind her. "Wake up, Ed!" She shouted for the second time.

All the noise had fully awoken the other fifteen-year-olds. James asked sleepily, "Whassamatter…? 'S it time to put the goats...in the firs' years...dorm?"

"Winry? Why are you here?" Ed questioned, sitting up and running his hand through his messy, unbraided hair, unaware of Winry's sudden, slight blush. He blinked slowly and peered up at her.

"No reason. I felt like it," she replied, curling her left hand into a tight fist. "I want to see what your classes are like."

Behind her, Sirius wiggled his eyebrows at James and mouthed, 'She _likes_ him!'.

James stifled a snicker. It was painfully obvious to all in the room, with the exception of Ed himself.

Ed's first class was Alchemy. He and Winry claimed seats next to each other, closer than Ed would have liked to the front, at Winry's insistence.

A bleary-eyed Mustang called the class to attention. He was plainly sleep-deprived, and as he began talking about the elements, he evidently was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, with Winry holding Ed back from punching anyone or anything he found profoundly irritating.

It was shortly before dinner that even the (scary) blonde's sway over Ed had no pull. Severus approached their small group (the Marauders and the teenage Amestrians) and sneered. In the oily yellow light cast by the numerous candles and lanterns, his hair looked especially greasy. "Well, if it isn't the midget and his girlfriend! I hear you can't do magic...how pitifu-!"

Ed had him by the collar of his robes. "I'M NOT FUCKING MICROSCOPIC, BASTARD!"

Severus visibly cringed.

"Ed," Winry started, rising from her chair.

"And she's _not_ my girlfriend!"

Winry turned red. "Yeah! I'm not! No way!"

James bit down a chuckle.

Gulping, Severus tried to fix his slipping leer back onto his face. "You don't want to hit me. Aren't you here on a diplomatic mission?"

Ed stiffened. Then he slowly relaxed his grip on the Slytherin's shirtfront. "Damn court martial," he muttered, glaring piercingly at Severus. "Come near me or Winry again and I'll break your face. Might fix your nose, though."

Winry sighed as the hook-nosed Slytherin slunk away. Ed's animosity was a bit much, so he must've sensed something he really disliked about the sallow-skinned boy. She reached for her wrench, then remembered that she'd left it in her toolkit, back in her room. Winry turned her gaze to Ed's face. His stunningly golden eyes were still burning with anger, his mouth set in a frown.

"Dammit, I need to beat someone up," he growled, kicking his left foot against a chair.

"Hey, mate, you alright? We all hate 'im too, so we get it," James said, leaning back in his chair and stretching luxuriously. "One day I'd like to pull a really impressive prank on him. I can already see his face turning a spectacular bruise-purple."

Remus chuckled. The dusty-brown-haired Gryffindor did not think himself particularly malicious, but in Severus's case, he was willing to prank amazingly. "Me too."

"Can I get in on it, too?" Ed asked, his lips pulling into a mischievous grin.

Winry sighed again. "Ed! You're on a diplomatic mission! Imagine what Al would say!" She hated to be a downer, but it was not worth it for Ed to risk his military position, as much as she disapproved of _that_ , as well.

"He'd say yes!" said Ed.

The mechanic shot him a doubtful look. "Whatever. I probably can't stop you. I won't tell Mustang." She had pushed aside the feeling that it would end very badly. It would only be one prank, anyway. She had no doubt that they could do it. It was the kind of people they were.

"Well then," Sirius said, "what do you say we make you a Marauder? You'll need a nickname, of course. How about what the Colonel calls you? Fullmetal?"

"Hell yeah!" Ed said, a new kind of fire lighting up his gold eyes.

"Great! Now, any ideas?" James announced, running a hand through his black hair.

 _This is not going to end well_ , thought Winry.

* * *

 **Aand finished! Thanks for reading, and please review!**

 **See y'all next time!**


	7. Allons-y, Alsonso!

**Bonjour! C'est moi!**

 **Aaand I bring to you another chapter, rife with awkwardness and some pranks. Y'know, the usual. I think next chapter might be a bit more exciting, but who knows?**

 **Sorry if it's late - memes and anime make for great procrastination. Thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed!**

 **Well, enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Allons-y**_ _ **,**_ _ **Alonso!**_

* * *

"This was a terrible idea!" yelled Ed, barreling through Hogwarts, feet and heart pounding wildly.

"Shut it!" responded James, eyes wide with panicked excitement and a bright, reckless smile growing on his face, "It was fun until Filth caught us!"

"Filth? You mean the creep with the cat?" Ed asked, braid whipping against his back, "Hey, where are we going?"

Glancing hurriedly around, the Chaser shouted back, "I don't bloody know! Away!"

"Sounds good to me!" Ed replied, swerving to avoid a wall. Trying to steady his pace, he struggled to undo his already-falling-apart-braid, then succeeded in getting his hair up into a messy ponytail. Winry and Mustang would kill him for this.

He hadn't intended to spend his night running like hell, no, he'd just gone along with the Marauders to pull a prank. But then Filth - whatever his name was - showed up with that cat that even Al couldn't love, and, well, it went downhill from there. Looking over at his accomplice, Ed noticed that James was fumbling with something in his pockets. "What are you doing?" he asked, wheezing slightly.

"I have…a way...out of this...bloody...mess!" gasped James, "Just..give….me a...moment..and...there!" With a flourish, he pulled out a large, silvery piece of cloth.

"How the hell's that gonna help, dammit?" questioned Ed, turning slightly to look harder at James, and, as a result, tripping. "Oh, shit!"

James dropped down beside him, draping the silvery fabric over them both. "Keep quiet!" he whispered harshly.

"The hell? Is he just gonna ignore the suspicious-looking _blanket_ on the damn floor! Use your goddamn magic or something!" Ed whispered back, coppery voice rough with panic. He wasn't at all comfortable; the ground was cold and rough and he had fallen in such a way that he was angled awkwardly. It was easily remedied, but due to the way that the blanket had fallen across him, moving it without revealing a limb was impossible, and for some unfathomable reason, Ed felt that venturing from beneath the blanket was a suicidal act.

"He won't see the blanket, you git, it's bloody invisible!" James muttered, frowning.

Ed stared at him for a moment, then lightly hit his head on the floor, mumbling, "Dammit, you wizards…I really shouldn't be surprised anymore…"

Just then they heard muttering ('It took that old man that long to catch up?' thought Ed, 'Why were we running?'). "Maybe I can get permission to bring back some of the better punishments...hanging them by their toenails...ah, the shackles!" He broke into painful-sounding chuckles, stopping at periods to wheeze.

Frozen, the two Gryffindors waited, breaths bated, for him to pass. It felt like an eternity, full of the sound of their rapidly hammering hearts and racing thoughts, until Filch's footsteps faded away.

. . .

Back in the common room, the other Marauders scrambled eagerly out of their seats when they heard the Fat Lady grumbling as she let someone in. They were met with the sight of James and Ed, hair in disarray, eyes bright with the energy that you get when you have been running dangerously on the paper-thin line between adventure and disaster.

"What in Merlin's name took you so long?" Sirius asked, frowning.

"Filth nearly caught us. You're lucky we took the pain of getting his attention so you could get away easily." James retorted, grinning a little. He was still full of adrenaline, in too good of a mood to let anything dampen his soaring spirits.

Lupin opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by laughter, the throaty, contagious kind. It was Ed, doubled over, clutching his stomach. A few, admittedly awkward, seconds later, and James joined in, followed closely by the rest.

It was only when Lily, whose dorm was only one flight of stairs above the common room, came down that they stopped. Her green eyes glinted murderously as she began to reprimand them (especially James, who winced every time she looked at him) for being loud and idiotic.

Eventually Lily finished lecturing them, and they retreated to their dorm room like whipped dogs. As soon as they were safely out of earshot, James said, "It was worth it, though."

. . .

The next morning, a bright Saturday full of the promise of laziness, they reaped what they had sown. Sure, seeing Filch glare menacingly at them, muttering threats under his breath, was a bit off-putting, but seeing the posters plastered all over the school made up for it. Each poster had a picture of Severus Snape on it, magically enhanced to burst into song or make embarrassing comments and vulgar noises.

However, Ed's glee was cut short when Winry came up to him as he stood in a corridor just off of the great staircase, smiling sweetly. "Ed," said Winry, "This looks awfully suspicious. And I hear there were some students out of bed last night…"

Ed turned ten shades paler. Attempting to smile innocently, he laughed. "W-why the hell would I do something like that…?" Lifting his left hand to the back of his neck, he slid his gaze to the left - and snickered. Following his line of sight, Winry had to choke back a giggle; it was a poster depicting Snape, enchanted so that every few seconds, he shifted into a suggestive pose. She masked her amusement - Snape had emitted a particularly unpleasant air - with a look of annoyance. "Ed," Winry growled, crossing her arms and tilting her head back slightly so that her hair fell away from her, "Give me a straight answer. Did you have something to do with this?"

Sighing, he turned his liquid gold eyes on her. "Yeah." His gaze sharpened. "Wait- what's this - are you - holy hell - you're trying not to laugh!"

Reddening, Winry balled her hands at her sides. "I- I'm not! Shut up!"

"Come on! You are!" Ed laughed, a genuine laugh that resonated through the hallway.

"Well, maybe it is kind of funny," admitted Winry, scowling to conceal her embarrassment, "But that was still really stupid, Ed!"

"I guess," he muttered, then his eyes widened. "Oh! Winry, I gotta go to the library and look something up, see you, bye!" Ed dashed away, attracting stares as he sped past puzzled students.

Watching as the last of his scarlet coat disappeared around the corner, Winry smiled a small, fond smile and shook her head. "Same as always." Casting one last amused look at the poster, where Snape was currently saluting suggestively, she murmured, "Magic, huh? Wow...I wish…"

 _Maybe then Ed wouldn't have had to sacrifice so much to get Al's body back,_ she couldn't help but think. She shook her head, but the thought lingered. Winry didn't know a lot about alchemy, but she did know about Equivalent Exchange, and other than losing his arm again, Ed didn't seem to have lost anything else.

"Are we gonna ask him about it or not?"

James sighed, running a hand through his hair, messing it up further. "I dunno. What if he flips out? Remember what happens when someone calls him-" he leaned in and lowered his voice, as if Ed could hear him, "-short?"

The Marauders were gathered around a table in the library. Remus was poring over a leather-bound book, and Sirius had a similar-looking book propped open in front of him.

They had done reconnaissance before, of course, when in their third year they'd had a particularly shifty Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but it turned out that the teacher ran a black market trade in scrap metal, which was odd in itself, because scrap metal was not a desirable object, legal or not (it was legal, which made the black market thing even stranger).

This was different. The person of interest was their friend, and they wanted to remain friends with him. James thought Ed ought to know that they knew, Remus thought they should just leave the matter alone, and Sirius wanted to look more closely at Ed's arm - Muggle machines fascinated him. Peter was undecided, and passively watched his friends as they tried to decide what to do with the knowledge they had gained.

"I'm going to tell him," the Chaser declared at last, standing up from the table. Sirius grinned, and Remus sighed. "Where is he?"

"I think he's in the library, too," Remus said tonelessly, skipping a few pages. "Try the biological magic section, he should be there."

James turned on his heel and left their corner. A few moments later he peered sheepishly in. "Where's that?"

Remus chuckled and closed his book, shoving it in his bag. "We'll come with you."

Ed was, indeed, in the biological magic section, along with Winry, who was studying a picture of the human body with interest. They were surrounded by mid-shin-height stacks of books, a small golden lamp spilling warm light over them, casting sharp-edged shadows.

"It's accurate," Winry was saying, "but-"

She saw them. "Ed, your friends are here."

He looked up, golden eyes curious, a question already spilling from his lips, "What's up?"

James glanced at Sirius, who glanced at Remus, who glanced at Peter, who glanced at James, who finally turned his attention to Ed. "Um, well, don't get mad, please, but we were curious, see - we're very curious, you know, of course you do - and we saw your...prosthetics."

The dark-haired chaser flinched and diverted his gaze from Ed, who was staring at them. Then the blonde chuckled. "It was bound to happen eventually, especially since you have that goddamned impossible invisibility cloak. Why did you think I would get mad?"

His expression and tone were light-hearted, but his eyes glinted, steely.

Peter stepped up, nervous. "Well, you - you were k-keeping it secret, and y-you've got a short t-temper, so we…"

Ed grabbed him by the collar, angry, and hissed (he didn't want to get kicked out of the only library he would have access to in the next seven or so months), " _Who did you say is so short that he can't even reach the bottom shelf?!_ "

"I didn't - I wasn't -" Peter looked imploringly at Winry, who sighed and pulled a wrench out of a pocket.

"Ed," she told him warningly, eyes glinting evilly, a dark aura surrounding her. Their narrow bit of the library darkened, quick.

The antenna-like bit of hair on top of his head stood straight up, and he released Peter, turning slowly. The Marauders backed away, just a bit.

After Ed had apologized to Peter, he gathered up his books and told Winry that he'd be in the dorm to continue his studying. It was then that Sirius realized that none of them had thought to ask Ed about his automail. He was grateful that it had been anticlimactic - no explosions, no rage. It also occurred to him that Ed hadn't shown them any alchemy. The questions they had to ask…

He sighed and turned his attention to Ed's friend, Winry, who was glaring after the alchemist. She shot a look at them and said, "Sorry about that. He's sensitive about his height, even though he's gotten taller than me since…" she trailed off, then refocused on them, "You should be sorry, too, spying on us."

James grinned, sheepish, and tried not to let it show that Winry terrified him a little.

"How long has he had his…?" Remus asked, quiet.

She sighed, contemplative, running one hand through her ponytail. "Automail. It's called automail, and I'm his mechanic. He's had it, what, five years now?"

The silence that fell was awkward, and Winry tried to ease it as best she could. "You'll probably ask him later, so I'll tell you now. He doesn't like being disturbed when he's researching.

"We grew up during a time of war, and there was a raid on the town a few years after his and Al's mom died - Al's his little brother. Anyway, protecting Al, he lost his arm and leg. I made him a new one."

She looked down, solemn, blue eyes shining. "You know, grown men have had the surgery he did, and they screamed and cried like babies - but Ed, he didn't make a sound. And then the automail rehabilitation that should have taken three years, he did in one. When he wants something, he works like hell to get it.

"I don't think he'd want me to spill too much of his story to you guys, as much as he seems to trust you, so I'll stop there."

There was a more comfortable silence, a bit chilly, but there wasn't a need for words. After a few moments, Winry silently went to go put her books back in the shelves, and the Marauders wordlessly agreed to leave.

When they arrived back at the Gryffindor common room and rushed up to their dorms, Ed wasn't there, as he'd said he'd be. Remus pulled the Marauders' Map out of his pocket and, after a few moments' search, found Ed. His little footprints and label were in a nearby corridor, heading away from them.

"There he is," he said, pointing to Ed's mark, "D'you think we should catch up with him?"

James thought for a moment, eyes dark, then said, "No. I reckon he needs a bit of time - wouldn't you, if you found out your friends were spying on you?"

They all nodded solemnly. The atmosphere was tense, like a breath being held, and the room felt dark. Sirius said, "I think we need to pull back the curtains."

Peter drew the curtains back from the windows, and the four of them slumped on their beds, the pale late-afternoon light filtering around the beds, casting light shadows. None of them spoke, just breathing quietly and thinking loudly.

When Ed finally returned, he found his four friends lying on their beds. James was asleep, but the others' eyes were open. "What's going on?" he asked, eyeing them and clearing some books away from his bed, sitting down.

James awoke with a snort, rubbing his eyes and pushing his glasses up into his hair. "Wassamatter?"

Sirius sat up gracefully, grinning wryly and saying, "I've told you this before, mate, but for all that posing you do, you sure don't wake up pretty."

James's eyes snapped open at the insult and he rocketed off of his bed, mouth open to counter the offense, "You're one to ta- Ed! You're back? You alright?"

"Yeah," Ed said, looking a bit embarrassed, "I don't know know much about friendships like this, where you have to learn about each other, where you're my age...I _am_ kind of pissed about the spying thing, still."

Remus winced. "Sorry about that." He stared at James condemningly, and his friend wilted under his commanding gaze. Remus had the scariest glare out of all of them, and he rarely ever used it - he wasn't even glaring at full strength now.

"Er, yeah, sorry, mate," James said, "Just - you know - curious. We're inquisitive, incorrigible little brats."

Ed's golden eyes flashed with amusement, and he graced them all with a smirk and a hearty slap on the back with his right arm (which, being made of steel, hurt). "Just as long as you never do it again - and I _will_ know if you do it again - we're fine."

Relieved that the fragile situation was more or less out of the way, Peter decided that the best course of action was to, of course, bring up the whole subject again, and said tremulously, "Winry t-told us about how you got your arm, Ed. I- I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry, Peter, it was a long time ago," the blonde told him offhandedly, "When's dinner?"

* * *

 **Hahahaha, look at me, wracked with self-doubt and uncertainty - what a time to be alive!**

 **Thank you all for reading (really, it means a lot to me that people actually like this story!), and please review!**

 **I have no idea how well it ended, so any criticism is much appreciated, and I will fix what I can, should any errors be pointed out to me. If you guys have any requests for future chapter content or whatnot, I'll take it into consideration.**

 **May the force be with you.**


	8. There's No Such Thing

**Wow. It has been a very long time - over 2 months. I apologize. I haven't been motivated up until two days ago.**

 **This chapter is mainly a filler, but I like how it's going. This entire fic doesn't really have much of a plot, just Ed and his shenanigans at Hogwarts, but I've got a much grander idea for a sequel. This fic might only have 15 or so chapters - I was thinking 10 but here we are on the 8th chapter, so wow.**

 **Thank you, everyone who's favorited, followed, and reviewed. I do not own any of the original content.**

 **Without further ado, I present chapter 8 of my trainwreck.**

* * *

 _ **There's No Such Thing As An Ordinary Human**_

* * *

A week passed, and Winry left. She and Ed had spent quite a lot of time in the library, reading, though the Marauders believed otherwise (James and Sirius made a number of suggestive speculations, all of which were not well-received by either blond Amestrian). When Ed was forced to attend classes, she would stare him down and order him away.

"So," James said to Edward as they climbed into their beds, a few hours after Winry left, "Are you two going to owl each other every week?"

"No," Ed replied, shooting James a flat stare, "We're not." He knew full well what the Marauders thought was going on with him and Winry, and it was irritating. Not that they were much worse than Mustang, but at least Hawkeye was around to keep the annoying General in check. With those four idiots, there was no one to hold their leashes.

James snickered and muttered something that, if Ed had heard clearly, would have earned James a punch of some kind. Fortunately for the Chaser, Ed didn't hear him, and they drifted off to sleep relatively easily.

. . .

"Just tickle right here and…"

A light giggle punctuated the opening of the painting, and five teenagers stepped through the doorway into a large kitchen. It was filled with bustling house-elves, and four long wooden tables took up the center of the room. Mounds of ingredients were stacked in the corners, and numerous ovens and counters took up the rest of the wall space.

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had all taken the idea upon themselves to take Ed to the kitchens, a mysterious and important part of the school.

"Woah," Ed murmured, looking around the room, golden eyes taking in the full glory of the Hogwarts kitchens. (He found himself imagining Ling let loose on these bountiful kitchens, and tried to suppress a shudder.)

Immediately, a horde of house-elves mobbed the five Gryffindors, their squeaky voices clamorous. "It is so good to see you again, Masters. Who is the Masters' friend?"

"Hey, hey, calm down," Sirius called to the house-elves, grinning, "This is Ed."

"Masters, would you like some food?" One elderly house-elf asked, offering a platter of cookies.

"Of course," Remus said, smiling at the elf, "Thank you."

The Marauders each stacked their arms high with the food the house-elves delivered to them in an unceasing stream, then left the kitchen, thanking the elves, who were still squeaking and smiling delightedly.

They walked back to the Gryffindor common rooms, taking shortcuts and chattering away.

"The Hufflepuffs are bloody lucky, their dorm's right next to the kitchens," Sirius told him through a mouthful of pudding, the bowl perched precariously on top of his arm. The black-haired teen had a platter balanced on the other arm, piled high with cakes and biscuits that wobbled concerningly.

"Sure," Ed said slowly, eyes focused on the desserts he had in his hold, "Why are we taking so much food, anyways? I doubt we're eating it all tonight."

James nodded, dark eyes glittering. Deadpan, he replied to Ed, pointing a half-eaten slice of pie at him. "We're on a sacred mission."

"A mission to help all the poor souls of our house," Sirius added dramatically, the bowl of pudding nearly falling out of his arms.

Remus sighed and continued, far less enthusiastically, "We Marauders, out of the kindness of our hearts, for we are undeniably gallant fellows…"

"Must supply our entire house with the finest delicacies from the mysterious Hogwarts kitchens." Peter finished quietly.

"So, basically, you're food smugglers." Ed surmised, hardly surprised.

James gasped, aghast. Eyes wide, mouth open, he turned to fully face Ed. If his hands hadn't been so preoccupied with the food, one of them surely would have been held over his heart. "How dare you belittle our glorious task, you heathen!"

Sirius shook his head, fighting back a grin. "And to think, we accepted a blasphemer such as yourself into our esteemed ranks. Such a slight upon our honour is unacceptable."

Pretending to sob, James rested his head against Sirius' shoulder, as though he were wracked with grief. "We- we thought you were our friend, E- Ed! I shall never trust again! Oh, that my delicate heart should be broken so!"

Remus and Ed watched this impassively, while Peter giggled. Finally, with a sigh, Remus began walking again, the other two close behind, leaving the dramatic duo to their antics.

"Moony!" James cried, "You have forgiven the traitor's crimes? Were you not an excellent judge of character? Were you not the wisest and fairest of us? That we should be betrayed by even you, Moony...I don't think I can continue to live!Oh, my legs doth grow weak, my sight doth grow dim!"

He swooned, Sirius somehow catching him without dropping any food.

"Go - go on without me, dear comrade. There is no hope for me, not anymore." James slipped gracefully from his friend's grasp, landing on the floor heavily.

Sirius tore his eyes from his fallen ally and found that the other three had vanished from sight.

"Prongs, they're gone."

By the time James and Sirius caught up to them, they were just outside of the dorms. Inside, it was empty besides a few bleary-eyed students. It was a Sunday morning, and most of the student body was still in bed, enjoying the luxury of a weekend morning.

"We come bearing gifts!" James cried, shoving a pile of parchment paper and quills off a table to lay down his food. The few Gryffindors who were awake perked up at the sight of the food, making their way over and thanking the Marauders sleepily.

"It's no problem," James told them cheerily, beaming and handing out tarts.

Sirius leaned towards Ed and whispered, "The rest of the school is pretty confused about why the entire house manages to skip meals sometimes. Well, Hufflepuff excluded, they all know how to get into the kitchen, but it's a well-kept secret few outsiders gain knowledge of. Pretty great, yeah?"

Ed opened his mouth to comment, when Lily stormed into the room, saw the pile of food, and shouted, "Not again, James! I thought I told you what an idiotic idea this is!"

. . .

The evening brought a much gloomier mood. They were sitting in the common room when an owl landed on the windowsill, tapping at the glass with a talon. James got up to let it in, shivering as the chill breeze swept through the room.

The owl swooped over Sirius, dropping a red envelope on his lap, then out the open window. James closed it hastily and hurried back to their warm seats.

"Oh no," Sirius said, leaning back and holding the envelope out at arm's length.

"What?" Ed asked, looking up from a book about magical plants.

James sighed. "It's a Howler. They're nasty buggers, and if you don't open them, they explode. Either way, they're a huge bother."

Reluctantly, Sirius tore open the Howler.

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK!" A woman's voice screeched, startling Ed. "YOU DARE DISGRACE THE BLACK NAME? THE ELDEST SON OUGHT TO HAVE MORE PRIDE! YOUR RECENT ACTIONS AT HOGWARTS HAVE BROUGHT SHAME UPON US! RENOUNCE THE BLACK NAME AT ONCE, BLOOD-TRAITOR!"

The Howler fell quiet and caught fire, burning to ashes in mid-air. The Marauders were equally quiet, until James weakly said, "Your mother's quite the charmer, eh?"

"Blood-traitor?" Ed asked.

Sirius ran a hand over his face and through his hair. "Well, shortly before school started this year, I kind of ran away from home. Mum disowned me, of course, and blasted my name off the family tree, but seeing as how I still haven't renounced my family name (thus renouncing my considerable inheritance), she's been extremely nasty. I've been living with James since. By my relatives' reckoning, I'm a blood traitor."

"That's rough," Ed said, solemn. He turned and stared into the fire. "My family situation seems trivial now."

Sirius frowned. "It's just different, Ed. As far as it goes, it's bad for the both of us."

James clapped his hands and swore. "Bloody hell. We've got an essay due for History of Magic tomorrow. Although I suppose you've already done it, Ed."

Ed merely laughed and watched as his friends scrambled to find parchment and ink. "I suppose I should thank Brigadier General Bastard for all that paperwork he's made me do." He shuddered violently and swore to never say anything of the like ever again.

Meanwhile, Roy Mustang sneezed, sending the stack of paperwork in front of him flying. "Damnit!"

. . .

"Fullmetal!" Mustang called, pulling Ed aside as the class filed out of the Alchemy classroom.

"What is it?" He asked, frowning slightly at the Brigadier General.

"Your assessment. It's to be held after the winter break."

"Winter break?" The diminutive (not-so-short anymore, he reminded them, now that he was taller than Winry) blond asked, puzzled.

"You've forgotten? They're giving the students a few weeks to head home for the holidays. Apparently it'll be Christmas around that time. I'm sure you've read up about Christmas." Roy chuckled, smirking at the genius' forgetfulness.

Comprehension dawned on Ed's face, and he grinned."Yeah. Am I headed back to Amestris, then? I'd like to see Al."

Mustang froze. "Damn. I forgot about you. I'll talk to Dumbledore, or something."

"Great," Ed sighed, and walked out the door with one final sarcastic comment, "Thank you for remembering me."

At lunch, he ate his food quietly, distracted, until Remus asked, "What's wrong, Ed?"

"Nothing. The Colo- Brigadier General forgot to make arrangements for winter break." He sighed again.

James swung to face Ed, eyes bright. "Ed! Want to spend Christmas break with Sirius and me?"

The Amestrian frowned. "I'm flattered, but I'd like to see my family back in Amestris."

After a brief pause, James said, "Well, can you at least spend a few days around Christmas with us? I'm sure you can bring your brother, I want to meet him."

Ed pondered it for a moment, then grudgingly replied, "I'll ask Mustang about it."

. . .

Mustang agreed easily to the proposal, then shooed Ed out of his office. It was not difficult to arrange; he and Ed would be apparated back to Central at the start of the break, and two days before Christmas Ed would be apparated to the Potter's mansion, where he would remain until the end of break. Al would accompany him, and be apparated back to Amestris at the end of break. Roy, meanwhile, had Riza and a towering pile of paperwork, generated by some unknown power, to tide him over. The same wizard who would take Al back would then pick him up. If not for all the paperwork, he would have held Ed's assessment in the milder climate of Amestris.

It was also about time he seriously asked Riza out, but he didn't need to tell that to anyone.

He was distracted from his thoughts when an owl tapped at his window. The letter attached to its leg was from Riza.

 _Brigadier General Mustang,_

 _It has come to my attention that you will be returning to Amestris while the school is on break. Sir, you will have to do your paperwork. All progresses well here. Since the end of the Homunculus war, the crime rate has fallen, and the workload has decreased. Al has been notified of the arrangements for December, and has accepted. He says he will mail Colonel Elric. I have yet to become accustomed to this odd form of correspondence._

 _That is all I have to report, sir._

 _Signed,_

 _Lt. Colonel Riza Hawkeye_

 _P.S. Roy, I would like to take you out for drinks, as a long-overdue celebration for our victory. That is all it is._

 _P.P.S. I don't have much time, I just stole this from Hawkeye. She's blushing. Good luck, Mustang! Say hi to Chief for me! -Havoc_

Roy chuckled as he put the letter down. Perhaps the break wouldn't be as horrible as he'd thought.

* * *

 **Ha! I finished! It's a tiny bit shorter than my usual chapters, I think, but I'd say it's a fairly good one. Who am I to judge, though - I haven't a clue what I'm doing.**

 **I'd like to figure out a way to fit those torture chapters in, since the drama was tres bien. If you guys have any ideas how to fit that in, or any ideas in general for chapters you'd like to see, please review and I'll take it into consideration.**

 **Sorry for making the A/N so long. Please review! Thank you all for reading! I bid you adieu!**


	9. We're All Stories In The End

**Aaand another chapter! I realized that Ed and Lily would actually probably maybe sorta get along and I just really wanted their friendship to start, so here you go. Thank you so much for all the reviews, they really brightened my day and encouraged me so much!**

 **I also decided to get kinda deep in this chapter, since I didn't think I was giving my characters enough depth.**

 **So, thank you, all you glorious people who read, reviewed, followed, and favorited.**

 **I don't own anything.**

 **I hope you like this chapter! (Well, I hope this chapter doesn't suck. Who knows? I just want to finish this fiiiiiic. I'm the laziest perfectionist alive.)**

* * *

 _ **We're All Stories in the End**_

* * *

Ed's first real encounter with Lily Evans happened in the library, his most frequent haunt. He was sitting in an armchair, a book on his lap, when she sat down at the table nearby. After a half hour of silence, undisturbed except for the quiet voices of the third-years studying nearby and the turning of book pages, she looked up. Her green eyes shone brightly in the lamplight, her red hair shimmering dully. "You're not the same as the others."

It was quiet, nothing more than a low murmur, but strong.

"What do you mean?" Ed asked, pulling his attention away from his book and turning his eyes to her.

Lily sighed, pausing for a split-second to pick her words. "Well, you hang out with the Marauders, but you're not very much like them, are you? I mean, you're bookish - and sure, Remus is smart, but he'd rather spend his time with the others than in the library - but you're a lot more serious than the others. You don't quite fit."

Resisting the urge to make a pun about Sirius' seriousness (maybe the Marauders had a bit of a bad influence), Ed nodded. "I guess. But they're alright - and most likely the closest friends I could hope to find here. Not that I have much to compare them with, the closest friends to my age I've ever had have been my brother, an automail freak, and the prince of Xing…"

"What?" Lily asked. He'd muttered the last bit, and she wasn't sure if she'd heard him right. "Whatever. If you say so. But James was a real git, and he's only started to become decent recently. Sirius went along with him, Remus never bothered to stop him, and Peter's a follower - hasn't got much personality, so he's just tagging along with who'll take him, the highest bidder. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you're a lot more independent than them."

Ed nodded. He closed his book and laced his fingers together. "I am. They have their bonds, I have mine. I'm really just an honorary member of the Marauders. They're good people. I've met a lot of people, and the four of them aren't bad people. James is really into you, you know. Even I can tell, and I'm the most emotionally oblivious person you'll ever meet."

Lily giggled, but then her expression grew serious. "He's been a huge pain, though. Hexing innocent students, picking fights with people - especially Severus."

"That guy? I know they don't like him, and he is creepy - but why do they hate him so much?"

"Well, he's from the same town as me. We've been friends for ages, but it ended last year. He's got into bad things. Honestly, his and James' rivalry is ridiculous. I can't stand either of them."

Pensive, Ed remained silent. Then, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I think you're an alright guy, Edward. Just be careful how involved you get with the Marauders. Oh, and ask Winry out sometime soon. It was absolutely painful watching you two dance around each other." With that, she picked up her book and left, green eyes glittering with amusement at Ed's puzzled expression.

"Dance around each other…?" He pondered, eyes unfocused. Understanding dawned on him and he buried his face in his book, blushing furiously. "We are _not_ dancing around each other!"

He stood up and called after Lily, "I'll ask her out if you give James a chance to show that he's not a total jerk."

She turned, a small smile playing across her lips, and replied, "It's a deal, Edward Elric."

It was, by far, a far better deal than the deals he'd made with Truth. As he returned to the armchair, he wondered how he should break it to Winry that he'd sold away part of his life and his arm for Al's body and Roy's sight. (She already knew he'd traded his arm for Mustang's sight, it was hard to miss, and he'd been whacked by her wrench many times before she forgave him (but never forgot, how could anyone forget?))

At the time, it had felt like a good decision. He would have given his Gate away for Al, he would have given anything for Al, Truth knew he would, the bastard. And Roy's sight for his arm? He owed a lot to Roy, as much as he hated to admit it. He could live without half of his limbs, and his automail was good enough a replacement that it wasn't detrimental.

The weight of his decision weighed heavily on him. Of course he didn't regret regaining Al's body, and of course Mustang was no longer blind, but at what cost? What would Al and Winry say once they found out? Truth was a fickle bastard.

Time was, for Edward, limited, and each second ran by too fast, because he only had a few decades left to live and - oh, God, he couldn't be like his parents and avoid telling them until is was too little, too late, too few words shared and looks exchanged. But he didn't need their pity, didn't need those heavy glances that followed those whose death was definite, known, soon. How do you tell everyone you love that you gave so much away, but it was worth it, so worth it, because now he could see his little brother smile at him, and feel his warmth?

Ed sighed and rubbed his eyes. "How do I tell anyone that I sold my life to God for my brother?"

. . .

Shortly before dinner began, Remus noticed that Ed was missing. "He's probably in the library, too wrapped up in a book to notice the time. I'll go run and get him."

As he exited the Great Hall, he ran into Lily, flanked by her friends. The ginger murmured something to her friends and stayed behind as they went ahead. "Are you looking for Ed? He's in the library."

"Thanks," Remus told her, making to leave.

"We talked for a bit," she said, "He's not a bad person. Convinced me to give James a chance, but don't tell the fool. He's still a git."

He stared at her in amazement, then shot her a quick smile and left.

Ed was, true to his assumption and Lily's direction, in the library. Surprisingly, he was not reading, but staring up at the ceiling, a book face-down on his chest. Remus paused for a moment, catching his breath, then said, "Ed, it's time for dinner."

The blond startled, turning wide eyes on Remus. "Oh."

"What were you doing?"

He shrugged. "Thinking."

They lapsed into silence for a few seconds, then Remus said, "Hey, we should-"

"You're a werewolf, right?" Ed asked, casually.

The werewolf in question felt his mouth go dry and his heart stop. "W-what?"

Edward shrugged and met his gaze. "It's hard not to notice. You were all dropping so many hints. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I've got quite a few skeletons in my closet, too."

"Thanks," Remus replied, rather dumbstruck. Not even James or Sirius had reacted well to finding out, though they did quickly accept the fact.

"I made a deal a while ago, and it will majorly impact my life, not to mention the lives of the people close to me, when I tell them. I did it to right several mistakes that I have regretted for a long time. Still, I don't think anyone will react well." Ed said, in a detached sort of way. He sounded tired and weary, so weary.

Remus licked his lips. How was he supposed to answer to that? "I- I think you should tell them as soon as possible, otherwise by the time they find out they'll be furious that you kept it from them for so long. I don't think anyone wouldn't be mad, regardless, but the sooner the better, right? I don't know, but that's my opinion."

He paused. "If you want to, you could tell us. We're definitely not the best people, but we're your friends...just think about it, Ed. Now, are you coming down to dinner or not?"

Ed looked at him, a grin forming. "Thanks for helping, Remus. I'm coming, I'm coming." He shoved the book in his bag and rose easily from the seat.

. . .

"...the basis behind transmutation is that materials have to be made of the same elements in order to be transmuted into each other. Some elements are similar to each other, so similar materials can be made, but it cannot be the exact same thing. It's simply the rearranging of atoms to create the effect you desire. Also, you cannot create more matter than what you're transmuting. Conservation of matter. For example, glass can be transmuted into sand, or vice versa…"

Mustang's voice droned on in the background, but James and Sirius' attention was directed in a different way. "Say, he's got a twinkle in his eye and a bounce in his step, doesn't he?"

"Wonder what happened. Maybe he's found a _special_ friend, yeah?" James whispered back, elbowing his friend.

Sirius nodded thoughtfully, then turned the face Ed, who was napping in his seat. "Hey, Ed, does Brigadier General have any _special_ people in his life?"

Ed snorted. "Him? He's hopele...oh."

"What? What is it?" Sirius asked, grinning.

"There's Hawkeye - Riza Hawkeye. She's technically his subordinate, has been by his side since forever, but she's more like his babysitter. Ever since the Pro- ever since the end of the war about a year ago, they've been weird around each other," Ed told them, eyes closed.

Sirius looked at him, astonished. "Wow…"

"What?"

"Well, it's just," Sirius wiped an imaginary tear away from his eye, "Look at you, reading social cues, you little emotionally stunted fellow."

The blond raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"Nothing, nothing," Sirius said, holding up his hands in surrender. Edward eyed him suspiciously and returned to his nap.

Sirius turned back to James. "A woman named Riza Hawkeye."

Both of them looked up at the Brigadier General, who was smirking slightly as he lectured the class about the chemical composition of igneous rocks and the different ways the energy channeled through alchemic arrays could rearrange the molecular structure of the rocks.

"We probably should have taken notes on it, right?" Sirius asked.

"Ask Ed or Moony later," James replied, glancing at his two brainiac friends.

. . .

During the next hour, a free period between Alchemy class and lunch, the Marauders found a nice window alcove overlooking the courtyard where they chatted and started on their homework.

"Ed knows about my furry little problem," Remus said, dipping his quill in an inkpot and continuing his Ancient Runes essay.

"What?!" James exclaimed, dropping his Potions textbook on Sirius' hand. Ignoring his friend's soft cry of pain, he pressed on. "How? How'd he find out? When? What?"

Remus sighed and set down his quill. "I was getting him for dinner a few days ago. He seemed distracted, then he just told me he knew. He said it was easy to notice, and that he wouldn't tell. He's got secrets of his own, apparently. I'm worried about him, though. After that, he told me that at the end of a war about a year ago, he'd made a deal that would change his life, and make the people in his life very angry, but that the payoff was worth it. It corrected several mistakes he'd regretted for a while."

Sirius shoved the textbook into James' lap and said, concerned, "What do you think it could have been? I mean, I know the bloke's mysterious, but how enigmatic can you get?"

"I don't know," Remus admitted, "but I told him he could tell us if he wanted to, and he seemed open to it. I guess he'll tell us when he feels up to it. Give him time."

. . .

Ed had his trunk in his hand, standing just outside of the Hogwarts Gates. Next to him stood Professor McGonagall, who was to Apparate him and Mustang to Central HQ, where Al was waiting. The Marauders had said goodbye a mere half-hour before, and were in the carriages with the rest of the students who were headed to the train station.

"Ready, Mr. Elric, Professor Mustang?" Professor McGonagall asked, speaking crisply and looking at each Amestrian in turn. When both nodded, their hands on her elbows, she Apparated.

They arrived in Mustang's office seconds later, disoriented and queasy, while the Deputy Headmaster stood regally, waiting for them to recover. "I will see you both next term," she said, as dignified as ever. Once they said their goodbyes, she Disapparated again.

Mustang and Edward looked at each other, then hefted their luggage and stepped out of his office. Riza and Al stood just beyond. As Riza smiled softly at Roy, Al ran at Ed and hugged him.

"It's good to see you again, brother!"

* * *

 **Wow! I've really been on a roll these past few days. I figure I'll ride it for as long as I can. I have a lot of the future chapters written, but it's in a weird order, since I need to write in between chapters. Anyway, things happened! Yay!**

 **The next chapter should be pretty fun, as well as the ones following. *evil laughter***

 **I'm really braindead. Anyway, please review tell me what you thought! (I really should actually revise this thing but I'm a lazy piece of crap who just wants to finish this fanfiction, so if you all have any problems with this, please tell me**

 **Peace out!**


	10. There's No Point In Growing Up

**Hey! It's me again! Yay! Well, I wrote this chapter before I even posted the previous one. What a work ethic!**

 **I've been getting kinda psychological and kind of dark, which I have a tendency to do. Anyways, this is just a whole chapter of Ed and Al's vacation. I am kind of sleep-deprived since I've just got out of school and now am free to stay up as late as I like with a clear conscience. Probably not the best habit. The point of that piece of information? I don't know how coherent this story is!**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting. (I honestly am amazed at how many people have done so.)**

 **I own nothing.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **There's No Point In Growing Up If You Can't Be Childish Sometimes**_

* * *

His brother had his body back. His little brother had his goddamn body back. Sure, he wasn't 100% yet - still too light, too thin - but he had his body. He could feel the warmth of the sun and the soft fur of the cats he loved so much. He could taste Gracia's cooking. He could do everything he'd been denied the ability to do for so long, and Ed would have done anything to give him that.

Yes, he'd only been gone for 3 months, more or less, but every time he saw Al - it was amazing.

So as he sat across from his brother on the train to Rush Valley, where Winry had set up shop, he couldn't help but stare at Al. He was asleep, and he looked so peaceful.

"I would have sold all my life for you, Al," Ed murmured, resting his head on one hand and smiling contentedly. The landscape outside was a flow of rolling green hills passing by a sky, deep blue dotted with scattered clouds. It was a perfect day, something Ed had never bothered to appreciate since before their mother's death.

At that moment Al woke, blinking slowly and stretching. "Hey, Ed...What time is it?"

Ed startled, looking at his brother, wide-eyed. "Oh - it's, um, 4 o' clock."

"What's wrong, brother?" Al asked, concerned. He leaned forward, brown eyes curious.

The long-haired blond sighed. He rubbed his face, then slumped down in his seat, staring out of the window. At long last, he said, slowly and deliberately, as if the words weighed millions of pounds, "I have something to tell you and Winry. I don't want to, but I will."

Al said nothing, just looking at his older brother, expression unreadable. Ed had always been one to do something and ask for forgiveness later. His brother was the kind to hold the world on his shoulders and use it to shield the rest of them. He was ever the selfless person, ever the one who would take the blame and bear the brunt. He was so infuriatingly self-sacrificing, and Al couldn't hate his brother for this, no matter how much he wanted to, because his brother gave so much and asked for so little. And Al knew, God, he knew, that this was about his body, because Ed had not seemingly lost anything.

So when they pulled into the Rush Valley train station as the street lamps came on and the sky bled purple, there was only the sense of foreboding as he looked at Ed.

Winry stood waiting for them at the station, dressed in jeans and a crop top. Her face broke into a smile when she saw Ed, and she waved cheerily at them. "Glad you two came by!"

She had spent most of the past year and a half at Rush Valley, having moved there to work with Garfiel, visiting their hometown, Resembool, and Central often. Her business, an enterprise barely a year old, was booming, and the money she made off of her top-quality automail made her far more well-off than she appeared.

Winry took them back to her home, a spacious apartment above her shop (named Rockbell Automail, just like her grandmother's shop back in Resembool). It was a modest, yet cluttered abode, dozens of automail schematics pinned to the walls and tools strewn across tables and counters.

The brothers put their luggage in the guest room and sat down with Winry in the living room. "So, what's the matter? You two seem unusually subdued."

"Ed has something to tell us," Al said, looking at his brother, "Don't you, Ed?"

The blond in question let out a long, world-weary sigh. "Damnit, I do. Can you both forgive me?"

Winry and Al nodded hesitantly, hearts heavy.

"How I got Al's body back about a year ago, on the Promised Day. God, I don't know how to tell you this. I-I offered my Gate, my alchemy, in exchange for Al's body. It wasn't accepted, and I was given a different offer. It was my only choice. Al, it was the only way to get your body back...I was told that my life force could be used for an exchange. Years of my life. I accepted. I'm sorry, Al, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for not telling you, but how could I not get your body back?"

Al and Winry were pale, Al's expression one of anger and grief, Winry's one of horror. It was silent, too quiet, a fractured, broken stillness that screamed. Then Al licked his lips and forced himself to speak, because he had to know, he needed to know - "How much? How - how many years?"

"Forty years."

The words hung heavy in the air, which was too thick, suffocating. Ed's eyes glowed with a furious sort of defiance, as if daring anyone to ask him to regret his decision. Because here was a man who would do anything for the people he loved - challenge immortals and gods and the very rules of life itself. It was a charismatic, self-destructive tendency.

Winry snapped. "Ed, you - you idiot! You fucking idiot! You damned fool! I know you'd die for Al - for any of us, but Ed! Ed! You brainless martyr with a hero complex! Forty years, Ed! Forty goddamn years!"

She sobbed, hands over her face. "Of- of course I'll forgive you, you fool. How could I not? But it's forty years, Ed!"

Ed grimaced.

Al let Winry finish, then he met Ed's eyes and smacked him soundly across the face. "Idiot brother."

Then he hugged him and cried.

. . .

The next morning found the three sound asleep as the sunlight crept through the curtains and the world woke, yawned, and began to move again, slowly, ponderously.

Ed opened his eyes first, squinting at the brightening room, and looked around. There was a pile of suitcases in one corner, and his little brother asleep in a bed parallel to his. Quietly, he rose, dressed, and made his way into the kitchen. He was not the best cook, but he could make a fairly decent basic breakfast.

By the time Al, followed shortly by Winry, entered the living room, a platter of scrambled eggs and toast, accompanied by a pitcher of orange juice, sat on the table. Ed was already digging into his breakfast, sparing only a passing glance and a grunted greeting for the other two. Taking that as a sign to dig in, Al and Winry sat down at the table as well.

Breakfast was a wordless affair, but as they cleared the table, Winry announced, "I'm taking you guys out today, okay? You should visit Paninya, Dominic, Ridel, and Satella. Oh, and I'm sure Garfiel wouldn't mind us dropping by!"

The day was crisp and sharp, the buildings cutting clean lines against the sky, which was a noncommittal shade of blue. It was a perfect day, twice-in-a-row, the kind of day that pulls people out of their houses. Winry pulled the brothers along excitedly, pointing at various shops and chattering away about the best metals, the best companies to buy tools from. Occasionally she would spot someone and smile and wave - a customer or an acquaintance.

As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, staining it brilliant hues of red and gold, Ed and Al were thoroughly exhausted. Paninya was working dutifully under Dominic, greeting the brothers with an apology for their first meeting. She and Winry had become fast friends since the blonde had moved to Rush Valley, and Paninya readily extended her friendship to Ed and Al as well.

Satella and Ridel LeCoulte's baby, named Winston, who had started walking a few months ago, latched onto Ed for some inexplicable reason. He spent the entirety of their visit at the couple's house with the toddler clinging to his leg, smiling up at him and gurgling unintelligibly. (Winry thought it was absolutely adorable, but she would never tell Ed that.) Dominic, too, greeted them warmly enough, though the taciturn automail engineer didn't spend much time on them.

It was a packed, fulfilling day, and the three of them walked back to Winry's apartment, tired and content.

The next day was more on the stressful side. It was yet again, a nice day, slightly overcast, and the Elric brothers were meandering around the town. Winry had things to attend to at her shop. Ed stopped occasionally to look into bookstores, and Al paused to talk to strangers and pet cats. The younger Elric hadn't bought a cat of his own yet, since he'd been travelling in between Central and Resembool and Xing for a time, and having a pet but not a house was difficult, to say the least.

That didn't stop Alphonse from loving each and every cat he met, though.

As friendly as most people in Rush Valley were, they had their fair share of jerks, just as every other place populated by humans. It was around noon, and Al was chatting enthusiastically with Ed, when he knocked into somebody. This somebody was a tall, barrel-chested man with a scowl permanently etched onto his face. He swung around with an icy glare, ignoring Al's hasty apology.

"Hey, skinny little dipwad, watch where you're going!"

Al opened his mouth, but Ed stepped in, ever the overprotective older brother. "Hey, brainless gorilla, he said sorry!"

The scowl deepened. "You picking a fight, shrimp? What, you and your twig of a friend gonna beat me? Ha!"

Ed sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, I'm saying that he apologized. It's not my fault you can't get it through your thick skull."

The response was not verbal. The man swung a thick fist at Ed, who easily ducked, grinning. He dashed forward, lightning-quick, and delivered a swift upper-cut to the man's solar plexus, knocking the air out of his lungs. Stumbling back a few feet, the man grunted and charged at Ed. Sidestepping, the blond stuck out his left foot and sent the man sprawling, his own momentum carrying him forward. Ed moved quickly and punched the guy in the face, knocking him unconscious.

Clapping his hands together to rid them of dust, Ed beamed and looked at Al, who was deadpan. "Did you have to pick a fight, brother?"

"He was the one picking the fight, I just made sure it didn't get out of hand!" Ed protested, walking away from his fallen opponent, Al following behind. "Besides, no one picks on you without hearing from me."

Winry, unsurprisingly, was not happy about the fight. After she finished chewing Ed out, throwing a few wrenches in the process, she turned to Al. "Your brother is the biggest idiot I've ever met. Take care of him."

Ed was sitting in the corner of the living room, reading one of the books he'd picked up that day and recovering from Winry's lecture. Al stood with Winry in the kitchen, helping her make dinner.

"So," Al said in a low voice, "Are you waiting for him to ask you out, or are you planning on doing it first?"

Winry startled, blushing and whipping around to stare at Al. "W-What? Why would that happen? We don't like each other!"

He giggled. "Come on, Winry."

Scowling, Winry refused to answer him, focusing on the saucepan in front of her. It was silent until dinner was served, when Ed began to tell Al about Hogwarts, Winry embellishing it with her experience from her visit to fix Ed's limbs.

. . .

The last few days of their visit in Rush Valley passed quickly. They visited Paninya and the LeCoultes a few more times, told each other stories abut their travels and adventures, and helped out in Winry's shop. On the last day, they all gathered together to have their picture taken. The end result was a mess; they had only paid for one photo to be taken, although a copy was printed for each of them. Paninya was grinning broadly, a thumbs-up directed at the camera. Satella and Ridel had their arms around each other, Ridel in mid-blink. Dominic was in his usual pose; arms folded and a scowl on his face. He was facing off to the side. Winry was in the middle of bringing her wrench down on Ed's head, an annoyed smile on her face. Ed, in turn, was being hit by Winry's wrench, Winston clinging to his leg, one arm a blur, since he was waving it excitedly. Al was laughing at his blond friends' antics, eyes closed.

Messy, but fitting.

Winry saw them off at the train station, where they were boarding the train bound for Resembool, to see Granny. She would have come with them, but it was prime automail season.

"Goodbye!" She waved, balancing on her toes to see over the crowd.

The brothers waved goodbye in return, grinning.

* * *

 **About this fic. I honestly kind of love Ed's automail. It's the coolest thing ever, and I didn't like that he regained his flesh arm in canon (I recognize that it was a burden for him but I'm a selfish little jerk). Even more than that, he lost his alchemy. Which is an amazing sacrifice, not to mention a bit symbolic in that he's leaving behind all the darkness that alchemy brought to him; his father's ties to alchemy (relating to his eventual departure), his mother's subsequent death and the brothers' attempt to resurrect her, Shou Tucker's depraved experiments, and the deaths/suffering of the people he knew - Maes Hughes, Colonel Mustang, Lan Fan, Ling Yao, Jean Havoc and more.**

 **That aside, alchemy is one of the coolest things ever, so I hated that he lost it. I hate major character change in general. So, for some reason, to preserve his automail and alchemy, I decided that something equal to his brother's body was his life force. Not all of it, and definitely less than half. Seeing as how Al's body was still alive, and that they still had his soul, it was probably only worth a few decades. And Ed's arm for Mustang's sight seemed fairly reasonable too, so I threw that in.**

 **I also made up a name for the LeCoulte's son, since he doesn't have one in canon. Winston; like Winry, who delivered him!**

 **Sorry for the long A/N. Thank you all for reading! Please review, and tell me what you think!**

 **Ciao!**


	11. The Dreamer of Improbable Dreams

**Hello again! It's been, what, half a year since I last updated? Sorry...I turned into One of Those Authors. I get it now; you lose motivation and then you kind of just...stop. But I felt like reading more HPFMA fanfic recently, so here I am. I've got 5 more chapters after this one, to bring it to a total of 16 chapters, and then I've got a sequel planned out because I do love this, and why not indulge myself?**

 **So Mys1tery reviewed (thank you) and pointed out that Roy does get his eyesight back at the end of FMA Brotherhood. I haven't watched it in a while, and forgot that. For those of you who haven't forgotten, my apologies. (Ed's sacrifice works for my plot in this fic, though, so I guess I'll stick with it.)**

 **I have noticed a few typos with Ed's age as I reread the fic to get inspired to write it again; so just to clarify, he is sixteen. I'm just too lazy to fix it anytime soon. Also, I reread the last chapter I posted, and can I just say...my defense for keeping Ed's alchemy and automail is weak as hell. Whatever, I'm a sucker for cool powers and stuff.**

* * *

I Am and Always Will Be, the Optimist, the Dreamer of Improbable Dreams, the Hoper of Far-Flung Hopes

* * *

Their three days in Resembool were the complete opposite of their week in Rush Valley. Where Rush Valley had been packed with work and social interaction, Resembool was a slow, leisurely time. They watched the stars and talked until the wee hours, and woke up late enough to miss the morning. They played with Den, drank tea with Pinako, and played in the nearby forests.

And when it was time to take the train to Central, they hugged Pinako goodbye and caught a ride on one of their neighbour's trucks to the station.

. . .

Meanwhile, things were really wild in Central. Just kidding.

Mustang was buried in paperwork, and Hawkeye was true to her name - she watched him like a hawk. He had not yet had the pleasure of buying a 'celebratory drink' with Riza, and as time ticked on, he feared this would never happen.

Finally, as the sun set one day, he set down his pen - he'd have to bring a truckload of pens with him to Hogwarts when he returned. Sure, using quills was quaint and quirky, just like everything else wizard-involved, but it was so impractical! They had to catch up sometime, or they'd end up centuries behind regular technology.

He turned to Riza and said, straight and to-the-point, "Drinks."

Hawkeye looked at him, deadpan, and in the reddening light, he couldn't tell if she was blushing. He hoped she couldn't tell, either, because he was. Slightly. It was hot in his office. He wasn't embarrassed or anything. Not at all.

"I did say we would, sir."

He nodded, stood up, and said, "Shall we?"

The two of them left the office, walking stiffly and silently. As they exited the building, Roy breathed a sigh. "Where to?"

Riza offered him a small smile, then said, "Follow me. I know a good place."

Eyebrows raised, for he doubted there was a single place he hadn't visited, with Hughes, and especially after Hughes, in this city. But as Hawkeye led him down the streets, the daytime side settling down and the nightlife waking up, painting the darkening city dull reds and yellows with their bright lights, he found himself in an unfamiliar street, staring at the large windows of a bar he'd never seen before.

"It's a suitably respectable place," Hawkeye was telling him, a smile curving her lips. "Clean, good customers, better alcohol."

Roy raised an eyebrow, surprised. He had never taken her for much of a drinker. It was amazing how little you could learn about a person, even after working together for years.

They took seats at a back table, ordered their respective drinks (a Scotch on the rocks for Mustang, a glass of finely aged bourbon for Riza). With the mishmash melody of idle chatter and clinking glasses in the background, they drank and talked.

Riza maintained custody of Black Hayate, now fairly large dog, and she told Roy about his recent escapades. They talked about the paths of the people they'd met during the Homonculus war; Ling's rule over Xing (the strange man had recently gone missing from his palace for two weeks before he was found travelling with a performer's troupe), Mei's research into alkahestry and her blossoming friendship with Al, Izumi Curtis' declining health (a somber topic), and the Armstrong family. Their conversation turned to Elrics as well.

"They worry me," Riza said, head resting on one hand. "Edward still hasn't told us what he exchanged for Al's body. It was generous of him to give his arm in return for your sight, though."

Roy sighed. "Damn fool. Now I owe him."

Chuckling, Riza commented, "He was very annoyed when he returned without his arm again. You should do something nice for him."

"Flowers?" The man scoffed, smirking at her.

The two began bickering, gently, sarcastically, as they were prone to do, and the night wore on. At last, an hour or so before midnight, they left the bar, Roy walking Riza home. As she opened her apartment door, he called out, "We should do this again sometime."

She turned, straight-faced. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Yes."

With a small, lopsided smile, almost Mustang-esque in force, Riza replied, "That would be great, Roy."

They stared at each other, unsure of what came after that, and were saved by Black Hayate. The dog came bursting out of Riza's apartment, barking energetically and weaving around their feet. "I should get going," Mustang said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Goodnight," Riza told him, getting a lazy wave as he walked away. Smiling and shaking her head, she ushered Black Hayate back into her apartment and closed the door.

. . .

The next day, Brigadier General Roy Mustang was giddy. And sleep-deprived, hopped up on caffeine to get him through the day. He was humming, snapping his fingers to the melody, and all any of his subordinates could hope was that he never thought to put on his special gloves on, the ones with a fire array sown onto the backs. Every time he snapped, they flinched (some threw themselves on the ground).

When Hawkeye walked in, her deadpan expression softer than it usually was, the Brigadier General's mood only improved. Havoc finally got tired of the constant heart attacks caused by the snapping of his superior officer's fingers, and asked, "Did you get lucky last night, or what?"

The dark-haired fire alchemist's eyes shot to Riza for a split second, and after a thoughtful pause, said, "Yes. I think I did get lucky."

. . .

It was four days later that the Elric brothers arrived. With a resounding bang, the elder one kicked open the door to an office. The workers within looked up with shock, not having expected anything of the sort. "Whoops," Ed muttered, "Wrong office."

With that he turned sharply on his heel and walked away, Al apologizing and bowing hastily before following his brother.

Another door slammed open, twenty minutes later. This time it was the correct office, and Ed was greeted far more warmly. Havoc called out, "Chief!", Falman, Breda, and Fuery greeted him with nods, salutes, and smiles. Riza inclined her head to him, lips curving up. Roy simply smirked, beckoning the Fullmetal Alchemist to take a seat in one of the low-backed chairs in front of him.

"Fullmetal. How was your break?" Mustang asked, lacing his fingers together.

Ed grinned. "A hell of a lot more fun than working for you, pyro. I take it your vacation was a blast."

He indicated the stacks of paperwork on his SO's desk and Riza's satisfied expression. Instead of frowning or scowling, the Brigadier General simply continued to smirk. Ed's brows drew together, and he looked from Mustang to Hawkeye confusedly.

Havoc came to his rescue. "They started dating, less than a week ago."

Wide-eyed, Ed stared at Mustang. "You started dating Hawkeye?"

Mustang stifled a smirk and nodded seriously.

"What the hell?!"

. . .

Professor McGonagall, who had generously agreed to apparate the Elric brothers to the Potter's estate, arrived in the usual loud fashion at sunset.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked, raising one eyebrow the tiniest bit.

Ed and Al looked at each other, nodded, and each grabbed one of her arms. "We are," Ed told her.

With a crack, she Disapparated. Brigadier General Mustang shuddered and muttered, "I hate that."

Hawkeye smirked. "You do know you'll have to do that to go back there, and again when you come back. And just imagine all the travelling you'll have to do. I don't imagine they have roads or trains everywhere, Brigadier General."

"Damn it, Hawkeye, don't remind me."

. . .

They landed on a sprawling lawn, covered in snow. All Ed saw was cold whiteness as he bent over, trying not to feel so nauseous. McGonagall, like always, was unfazed, and stood patiently by the two as they recovered. Ed gradually stood up, and found that Al had gathered the strength to do the same, though he looked very green. "Thanks," he managed weakly.

"You're welcome, Colonel Elric," she said, and promptly Disapparated again.

"I never want to do that again," Al complained, shaking his head and looking around, "Oh! Is that it? It's massive. You didn't tell me your friend was rich, Ed."

"You're impressed? We're friends with Ling Yao, Al. He's the ruler of a country."

Al frowned, "Yeah, but I met him before I knew that. It's not as impressive when you know him."

"You're right about that, Al," Ed said, "Let's go."

Ed gathered up their luggage; his trunk and Al's smaller, lighter suitcase. His younger brother was still too weak for any remarkably weighted items, so he approached empty-handed.

The Potter's house was extravagant. It looked more like a small castle than anything, with large doors and two towers. The windows glowed warmly, and as the Elrics drew nearer, the doors burst open and four people came running out; the Marauders.

"You're all here?" Ed asked. He knew that Sirius was living with James, but as far as he knew, Remus and Peter had families of their own.

James nodded. "Yeah. Remus has his furry little problem, which can complicate family life, and Peter's parents spend Christmas in France. Peter used to go, but a particularly nasty bowtruckle attacked him on a picnic there once, and he hasn't been back since. So," he said, looking at Al, "This is your little brother. It's nice to meet you, Al, Ed's told me a lot about you."

"Same here," Al replied, smiling gently, "It's very nice of you to have invited me here. I'd never heard of Christmas before, it sounds absolutely wonderful."

James paused, clasping his hands together. Behind him, Sirius pressed a hand above his heart, and Remus and Peter's eyes were wide. "Merlin, your brother's an angel, Ed, how are you related?" Sirius asked softly.

"Hey!" Ed shouted, eyes flashing.

"Brother's really very kind once you get to know him better. He just acts tough because he's still insecure about his height," Al commented in the same gentle tone.

Ed's head whipped around. "Al!"

The others had broken into laughter. "Blimey, he's more savage than you, too!" James chuckled, "Why don't you come inside and see if some wizard Christmas spirit can't heal your broken heart, yeah?"

The Chaser led the way into the house, and they followed close behind. "You never said you were rich, James," Ed said, having recovered from his double-betrayal.

"Oh, yeah. We're a pureblood family, so loads of inherited money, which my dad quadrupled after inventing Sleakeazy's Hair Potion. Never used the stuff myself, though." He grinned.

They were all staying in a small part of the castle-house, near the kitchen and dining hall, but fairly secluded. Several bedrooms and two bathrooms led off a main room, complete with squashy chairs and a fireplace. The Potters had several house-elves that tended the fire, keeping it burning continually.

"Nice house," Ed remarked, putting the luggage down and gazing around. "Extravagantly rich, but not like Ling's."

"Ling?" Remus asked, settling down in an armchair around the fire.

Al giggled. "Oh, Ling Yao. We met him nearly two years ago. He was lazy and gluttonous but good with a sword, and he had these two ninja bodyguards that followed him around all the time. He's the Emperor of Xing now, and he has all these big, fancy palaces, from what I hear. Ed's visited him a few times, but always gets kicked out because they fight a lot. They end up inviting him back again anyways. I'd like to visit once I get well enough. They're very good at using alkahestry, which is sort of like alchemy."

"What the…? What were you guys doing before this?" Sirius asked, wide-eyed.

"It's classified," Ed said, "As is, you all know too much."

After a chorus of complaints, Ed agreed to drop a few hints. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you all that it involved lots of guns, swords, fire, immortality, and near-death experiences."

"That just made it worse," Sirius groaned, "now I want to know more."

But Ed said no more. James showed him which room he and Al would be sharing, and they settled around the fire to talk. They didn't touch the subject of Ed's military experience for the most part, though he did share a few stories that he hadn't strictly been told not to tell. The wizards had their fair share of stories too, although not nearly as many of them involved life-endangerment.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! This was mostly filler, but it was fun filler. I am sorry that I haven't updated in a while, but I've got the ending mostly written, and now that I've started I could maybe ride this wave of motivation enough to finish it.**

 **As always, please review and tell me what you think! I haven't written anything recently, so there might be plot holes. Oh well.**

 **Adieu!**


	12. Merry Hippogriffs

**Bonjour, mes amis! Comment ca va? Moi, je suis fatigue. I recently attended an LGBTQ+ youth summit called Ignite, which was really amazing and boosted my self-esteem a lot. If any of you readers live in Utah, they're trying to make Ignite an annual thing, so maybe check it out next year. It's super amazing how many people are coming together to help us younger LGBTQ+ kids have a brighter future and a safe place to be ourselves.**

 **This is purely a filler chapter, full of shenanigans and maybe a bit of serious stuff to balance it out. There's some heavy stuff ahead, because I enjoy writing that, too. The idea of making a parodical one-shot accompaniment to this fic sounds kind of fun.**

 **And guess what? As of posting this chapter, I have finished the next few, so over the next few weeks, I'll post the new ones (probably once a week).**

 **So uh, enjoy this chapter, I guess?**

* * *

 _ **God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs**_

* * *

The next morning they woke up late, having had a late night. After shuffling around and dressing drowsily, they headed to the dining hall, where a large breakfast had been set. James' parents were already up; his father, Fleamont, who was a portly, balding man with a cheerful smile, was reading _The Daily Prophet_ , and his mother, Euphemia, a tall woman with long grey hair and a crooked nose, had a large book in front of her, in a language none of them recognized.

"Morning, James, Sirius," Euphemia called absentmindedly, turning a page. Then she looked up. "Oh, you've got guests. Hello, Peter, Remus. And you are…?" She gestured to the Elric brothers.

"Edward Elric," Ed said, extending a hand, "Call me Ed."

After she shook his hand, Al introduced himself. "Alphonse Elric, I'm Ed's little brother. You can call me Al."

"It's very nice to meet you," she said, smiling.

At this point Fleamont had stood up and greeted everyone too, then invited them to sit down. "The house-elves have prepared something delicious, as usual. Do thank them later, dear," he remarked to his wife as he picked up the paper again and lifted a scone to his mouth.

Lunch was a much louder affair than breakfast, as jokes and prank schemes were tossed across the table, and it was homely. Rather than return to playing Quidditch, they began decorating for Christmas.

"I could have asked the house-elves to do it, but I figured it would be nicer to do it ourselves," James said, levitating a wreath up onto the wall and casting a sticking and Sirius were bringing in trees to set up inside, and Peter was creating ornaments to hand to Ed and Al. A fire roared in the main hearth, and by the time they were finished, it all felt very….Christmas-y.

"Should I enchant something to sing holiday songs, or do you prefer the cold silence of joylessness?" Sirius asked after they'd eaten dinner. He was particularly fond of such songs, and had pestered the Charms teacher, Filius Flitwick, to teach him how to do the charms that he performed on the armor at Hogwarts each year.

"You know I would never deny you a chance to sing your heart out to God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs, Sirius. Go ahead," James said, and within the hour the house was full of various singing wreaths, and a very merry Sirius.

Leaning towards Remus, Al asked, "Why does he like Christmas so much?"

The werewolf was quiet for a moment, then he replied, "Well, growing up, his family was very cheerless. So coming to Hogwarts and being invited to James' house every year for Christmas, well, he's happy."

Sirius ran by, tangled in multi-colored tinsel, hollering the lyrics to a Christmas carol. Seconds later, James came after, wand out, a fierce grin on his face. Remus watched them go by disinterestedly, then turned to Al. "They do this sort of stuff a lot. You'll get used to it, I'm afraid."

"Hey, Moony, Al, Peter got the wizard chess sets out. Wanna play?" Ed asked, pointing a thumb back at their quarters.

Al liked chess, and the thought of magical chess made him excited, but what he got was…

When the pieces first started moving and yelling things, all he could think about was being trapped in that cold, hard shell, about Barry the Chopper's soul in that suit of armor, of the horror of waking up from what he wished was a nightmare and finding himself in an unfeeling body, unable to eat, sleep, or cry. About how for that short time when his reality had fallen away and he feared that he'd been fabricated by Ed and lied to. That pure, unfaltering terror of not knowing if he was real or not.

He couldn't breathe. His heartbeat pounded in his ears and he couldn't breathe, he couldn't _breathe_ , breathe, Al, breathe, _you're not in that armor anymore, you have your body, Ed saved you (god, at what cost), you can eat and sleep and cry and feel, breathe, breathe-_

"Al! Al? Breathe, alright? Breathe, Al, can you do that. Okay? In...out...in...out...do you know where you are?"

Ed. Thank god for Ed.

"James' house," he managed, feeling the tightness in his chest release a bit.

"Good. What's your name?"

"Al. Alphonse Elric."

"Right. Look," his brother said, taking one of his hands and holding it up, "look at your hand. Flesh and bone and nerves. See?"

He could see. He could breathe. He had his body. Oh, god. He reached up with his hand, _his real hand_ , and wiped the tears from his face. Then he felt a lot of things at once. Guilt, stabbing guilt, because he was all flesh and bone and nerve, billions and billions of cells working together. Real. Ed only had one real arm and one real leg, and they couldn't - wouldn't get them back, because what would it cost?

Then came the crushing embarrassment. He'd had a full-on panic attack in front of Ed's friends. Ed's cool, magic, wizard friends. He'd had them before, but with people who knew him, who understood. Winry, with her calloused hands and soft words. Sensei, surprisingly, who cursed a lot but understood so well. Pinako and Hawkeye and Mustang and Mei. Ed, who'd been there day and night as he was recovering.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, hiding his face in his arms. He knew what they were doing, they were staring, because they were cool and he was weak and cried at animate chess pieces.

"Don't be sorry," someone told him, not Ed, although he felt the weight of Ed's arm around his shoulders. Remus, then. "It's okay, Al."

He peeked through the gap between his arms. Remus was kneeling in front of him, face soft and understanding. Worried, not disturbed. Peter was nearby, wringing his hands but not angry or annoyed. James and Sirius, too, concerned and quiet and not mad.

Al lifted his head. He still felt gross and shaky and tight, but not embarrassed.

Helping him stand up, Ed said, "I think we should tell them"

"What about the military stuff?"

"Maybe not that, yet," Ed said. "You can tell them a bit, though."

So his brother helped him to the main room, where he was bundled in a blanket and seated in front of the fire, and Ed sat next to him. The Marauders finished the loose half-circle around the fireplace.

"So...what happened?" Remus asked.

"Um...the chess pieces..they reminded me too much of the armor. And the stuff that comes with it."

"The armor?" This time it was James, unusually quiet. He looked slightly uncomfortable, but that was okay, because he didn't know how to feel.

"Can I tell them? It's not about the recent stuff," Al said, looking at Ed. The alchemist sighed, looking around the group, evaluating each person carefully. Then, "They can know. I think it's okay."

"Alright. Our dad left us when we were little, and our mom was really great to us. She loved it when we did alchemy for her. When I was 6, she did of an illness. But we'd read a lot, see, and Ed had an idea about how to bring her back."

Ignoring the stifled gasps, Al pressed on, "We found an alchemy teacher, Izumi Curtis. She was really scary, but we got really good at Alchemy. When we came back and moved in with the Rockbells, we began studying really hard. We had to make sure it was perfect. We finally did it when I was 10 and Ed was 11. It _was_ perfect. We had all the ingredients for an adult human woman, and to add the soul we put some of our blood in. It was supposed to be perfect. But when we activated the circle...it backfired. We were taken to the Gate. Me...my body was taken. I went through the gate, and Ed's leg was taken in exchange for knowledge. He crawled over to a suit of armor, and using that knowledge, he bound my soul to it in exchange for his arm.

"He saved me. It wasn't horrible, being in the suit of armor. I just couldn't eat or sleep or feel, but maybe that was better. Ed was in a lot of pain. I was alright. I hated it sometimes, more often than not, but it wasn't...painful. Ever since regaining my body, though...I can't bear it."

Al stared at the fire. There was silence, only the faint echoes of a carol from a distant area in the house, and the small noise of the wood burning. He looked around then. Ed had fixed his gaze on his arm, most of the others had varying expressions of shock, and James was studying the floor with intensity.

"That's what happened. After that I joined the military to find a way to bring Al's body back, and we burned our house down." Ed's voice was low and hard.

"That's horrible," Sirius said, "What you went through."

There was a murmur of agreement, then James cleared his throat. "Thanks for telling us. You can trust us with this."

A few comments were made, the shock of the moment gradually passed, and before they all settled down to sleep, Peter and Sirius had engaged in a surprisingly skilful pun war.

Al burrowed into his bed. He was glad the others had been understanding, but he was worried. It wasn't like they were going to do anything with that information, because Ed trusted them enough to tell them, but there was that ever-present fear.

He crawled out of his bed and over to Ed. "Brother _,_ " he murmured, "You're not mad that I told them, right?"

"No, I'm not. I wish I could go back and stop myself from thinking of it in the first place, though. But as for tonight...I would have ended up telling them anyways, you know?" Ed turned onto his side to look at Al, face serious.

"Yeah."

He sighed. "I've never had friends like this before, Al. The only ones my age - you and Winry - you knew already. And the others...it was something they understood. But these guys, they hardly know anything about alchemy or Amestris. They're not used to things like that. How are you, Al?"

"I'm better. I think explaining it kind of helped me think it through a bit. I don't know. I just wish I didn't panic like that every time I was reminded too strongly of...stuff." Al sniffled a little.

"Al. It's okay. You've been through a lot because of me, but you're recovering. It'll keep getting better _._ "

Al smiled softly."Thanks, Ed _._ "

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The next day passed in an awkward blur of games such as Exploding Snap (more often than not, Ed and Al ducked whenever a card exploded, and explained that spending years around Mustang tended to make you a bit jumpy), idle chatter, and a careful avoidance of the subject of the previous night, as it was still a bit touchy. James' parents were around more often than not, laughing and sharing odd stories from their days at Hogwarts. When they weren't doing any of those things, they were outside, enjoying the snow and the crisp, cold air.

The next day, Christmas Eve passed much the same, although a bit of regular chess was involved. Ed transmuted a board and pieces out of a fallen tree branch from outside, and Al liked it a lot more than wizard chess, for obvious reasons.

Dinner was a large feast of butterbeer, various fowl, pastries, and all kind of desserts, with party poppers and Sirius' seemingly ever-present caroling adding even more festivity to the meal. When it was over and the darkness outside brought quiet inside, they sat by the fire and drank butterbeer. The Potters had a seemingly endless supply, as they ordered a large shipment every year before Christmas.

. . .

Christmas started for Ed with an explosion of yells. James, Sirius and Peter had already woken up and found their presents under the tree they'd put in the main room. Groggily, he trudged out of bed and found Al doing the same thing. They emerged to find a tired but happy-looking Remus looking through the presents under the tree, finding the ones addressed to him.

They each ripped open their presents eagerly. Ed received, among other things, a scarf from Sirius, a new notebook from Al, and a book titled _How to Annoy Your Boss_ from James, while Al's notable gifts were a rather ridiculous knit hat from Peter, a suitcase enchanted to fit more inside it than scientifically possible from Remus, and a note from Ed that read - _When you get home to the Rockbell's, see what's waiting for you._

James and Peter were on the ground, squabbling over a game of Gobstones, and Sirius had broken out his stash of candy from Honeydukes. Al, in particular, was excited by the candy. With fascination he studied each kind - sugar quills, cockroach clusters, chocolate frogs, and more, making odd expressions with each taste and speculating about the magic involved in the workings. When he reached Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Al paused.

"Every flavor? Really? Someone put all the work into discovering every flavor, and used it for jelly beans? All that work, for a prank candy…" Gathering his resolve, he tried each bean in the box. Ed watched on in amusement as his brother reacted violently to a liver-flavored bean, making an amazingly terrible face and reaching frantically for his cup of butterbeer to wash the taste away.

"For such a smart kid," he told Al, "this was not well thought-out at all."

Poking his tongue out at Ed, he responded, "For such a smart alchemist, you'd think you'd have asked Winry out already."

Yelping, he ducked as Ed chucked a volume of _Witches and Wizards Through the Centuries: A Summary of Notable Theories (11th century)_ at his head. "Hey! You could hurt me, or that book!"

"You're just hurting yourself by saying things like that, Al!" Ed responded, fingering the 12th century volume.

Eventually Remus dropped his book and stopped the sibling quarrel. "We should go to bed," he reasoned, "tomorrow you need to do your homework." He'd done his already, of course, but he was the only one.

As they got into their beds again, presents neatly put away into their bags, Al remarked to Ed, "We should start doing this at home. I think our friends would really enjoy it."

"Yeah, they would."

. . .

Breakfast the following day was dreary. James greeted Ed as he entered with, "Merlin, we've got to do homework now."

And they did. The next two days were a blur of homework and short breaks. Ed finished his homework early the second day of cramming, and spent the rest of the time discussing alchemical theories with Al and Remus.

Exhausted, he collapsed into bed, ready for one last day at the Potter estate before saying goodbye to Al and returning to Hogwarts.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. If you guys have any ideas for a parody one-shot, review or message me. Or just tell me what you think about this story in general. I'm not a super great writer, so I feel like parts of this story are under- or over-written, or rushed, or just go too damn slow. You know? Also, close friendships is something I don't know how to write, so I hope the scenes where I try to do that aren't too weird.**

 **Anyways, ciao! I'll try to update every Friday, so this fic (which is just a chapter from being completed, although I do have some major revisions to make to other chapters) will actually be finished.**

 **P.S. I just reread Lilliputian, my first ever fic. Can I just say - what the fuck? Like, seriously...what the hell was I thinking when I wrote it?**


	13. Casualties Can Be Kept as Low as 80

**Hello! I come bearing gifts (aka whump and overdone torture). Ho hum. Net neutrality just got voted on today, 3-2 in favor of repealing it. But it has to go to court, so there's still hope!**

 **Enjoy, I guess.**

* * *

 _ **Casualties Can Be Kept As Low As 80%**_

* * *

It was the middle of the night, completely unexpected. The only warning was the sharp sound of glass breaking. It woke them up, but only in time to be hit by several stunning spells as they ran out of their rooms. The last thing any of them saw was Ed being carried out of his room by wizards in long black robes and haunting, skull-like masks.

. . .

Edward Elric woke up to blurry greyness, darker shapes flitting at the corners of his eyes. Shaking his head, his vision cleared and he made out glossy black stone walls and white pillars, and numerous black-robed people scattered throughout the room. Trying to move, Ed found that he was tied quite securely to a high-backed wooden chair.

"What the hell?" he asked, swivelling his head. One of the black-robed people, a tall platinum blonde man with a haughty expression, approached him. Leaning down so they could see eye-to-eye, he chuckled and said, "Welcome, Edward Elric. You will soon have the honor of meeting the Dark Lord personally, very soon-"

Just then, the door at the far end of the room swung open and a pale-skinned bald man entered, seeming to glide. As he came closer to Ed, the blonde saw that he had an inhumanly flat nose and snake-like red eyes. He was terrified; surrounded by people who obviously didn't have good intentions and could use magic, and he was tied very securely, with no magical ability. He couldn't use his alchemy or his fighting abilities now. Ed was powerless, and that scared him.

But his mind was sharpest when he was afraid. A cornered Elric is a dangerous one, and Ed was already hard at work, analyzing his surroundings for any weaknesses. One door (wood, just like the chair; made up of easily identifiable elements). The ceiling, floor, and walls were all stone of some kind (marble, maybe, or some sort of volcanic rock?). Pillars of white stone, but they seemed decorative, and taking them down would only distract the enemy. Maybe a dozen of the black-robed bastards, which he could take down easily enough if he could use his hands and feet, and the snake-faced man in front of him. Voldemort, he assumed.

This man was dangerous, but Ed figured he could at least hold him off long enough to buy time to escape. Still, the look in the Dark Lord's eyes was highly reminiscent of Kimblee, the bloodthirsty psychopath responsible for countless deaths, which did not sit very well with Ed at all.

"This is the Amestrian?" the snake-like man asked, looking at Ed. "Good work, Selwyn, Rockwell, Lackley." Even his voice was vaguely snake-like, hissing and dangerous.

Three people bowed, murmuring gratitude.

"You're Voldemort, right?" Ed asked, fighting down his fear. The question earned him a backhanded blow across the cheek from the haughty-looking blonde. "You have no right to speak his name!" In retribution, Ed glared at him.

"Quiet, Abraxus. I'll forgive his mistake, for how could he know?"

Abraxus bowed and stepped away, and Voldemort moved closer.

"What do you want with me?" questioned Ed, dreading the answer, but he had to know.

"I'm pleased that you asked, Edward. I want your alchemy. With you in the ranks of my army, we are guaranteed to achieve our goal more swiftly. You would benefit as well. You could have so much power, Edward, and I can give it to you."

"Sorry, baldy, but I'm already a military dog. Find someone else." Ed smirked, but he could feel the irritation beginning to roll off of the Dark wizard.

"Are you sure? I can give you immeasurable power. Don't be so rash to decide." Voldemort said, watching him carefully.

"No." Ed replied firmly. "Never, you bastard."

"You will join us, Edward Elric, eventually. Abraxus, convince him. I will return in nine days." Voldemort said coldly, then he swept out of the room. The other black-robed wizards followed his lead and left, leaving Ed alone with the man.

"I would very much like to use the Imperius curse on you, but we need your knowledge," mused Abraxus, studying Ed pensively. "What would convince you? Perhaps just a little...pain! _Crucio!_ "

Pain ripped through Ed, worse than losing his arm and leg. Stubbornly determined not to show any weakness like fear or pain, he gritted his teeth against the scream that was building in his throat.

"Will you join our ranks? I can make it stop if you do." Abraxus asked, twirling his wand.

"Hell no!" Ed ground out, then spat on the man's shoe.

Looking disgusted, Abraxus raised his wand again. " _Crucio!_ "

The pain - it hurt - so much - he had to make it stop - it _hurt_! This time, Ed groaned through his teeth, which were clamped together so tightly that some tiny, distracted part of his mind feared that they would shatter.

"I can make it stop." Abraxus told him, "If you agree to join us. Think of the glory! The power! Doesn't it _tempt_ you?"

"I said - hell no! No amount of pain will change that, crazy bastard!" Ed snapped, ignoring the aching of his teeth.

" _Crucio!_ "

It hurt - oh hell - it hurt so much -

"Before...you say...anything….let me tell you...no!" Ed gasped, trembling.

"I see…this isn't working. Tell me, Edward, what makes you afraid?"

Casting his gaze to the ceiling and sighing deeply, Ed let himself smirk as he said, "Your ugly mug makes me scared. I don't know how you can even look at a mirror!"

Abraxus slapped him again. He looked extremely annoyed. "What do you want in return? What tempts you more than immense power? Women? Money?"

Ed scoffed. "You're an idiot, Abraxus. What I want, you can't give me."

The blonde man studied him carefully. "You may not be affected by the pain, but what about your brother, Edward? What's his name...Alphonse? It would be oh so easy for us to find him, I'm sure you know."

"Touch him and you die, bastard." Ed growled.

Smirking, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

"Dammit...that hurt. I won't let them touch him...Am I going to get out of this one, Al?" He strained once more against his bindings, to no avail. The ropes were probably magically enhanced.

. . .

He had fallen asleep at some point after Abraxus left the room. However, even fleeing to the realm of dreams did not provide an escape from the thoughts haunting him.

Before him, far away but still distinguishable, were Al and Winry and the Marauders, surrounded by warm light. They had their arms outstretched, reaching for him. "I'm coming!" Ed called, stumbling forward through a low, dark fog. Ropes snapped out of the encroaching dark, stopping him, pulling him back. "No! Dammit! No!"

He was dragged fully into the darkness, unable to see anything now but the dark, terrifying shapes that lurked behind him, just within his field of vision. Ed was helpless, powerless, out of reach. "Help," he whispered. A rope snaked its way around his forehead and pulled his head roughly back and-

Struggling for breath, Ed woke up to see the empty room, white pillars reflecting against shiny black floors.

. . .

Edward Elric was bored. Mind-numbingly bored. He wouldn't mind the boredom so much if he wasn't tied to a chair, he figured. He probably wouldn't actually be this bored if he wasn't tied up, come to think of it. If only he had a book or some life-threatening situation to entertain himself with.

And really, he needed to train more. Before Hogwarts, he wouldn't have been captured so easily. He'd need to up his counter-magic techniques, too. One drowsy, out-of-practice alchemist against several wizards with their scientifically impossible magic...well, he shouldn't have let himself slip up.

This also begged the question; how had they known he was at James' house?

The door opened, shaking Ed from his idle thoughts.

Abraxus entered, his wand in his hands, a small smirk on his pointy face. His expression filled Ed with a sense of apprehension. Staring defiantly into the smug bastard's eyes, he growled, "What do you want, ferret-face?" He was slightly proud of that one. He'd only been there a short while - a day and a half at most, he reckoned - but he'd had time to think up suitable insults.

However, the pale wizard only smirked more, and Ed began to feel odd...like something was moving about in his head. Magic? What else could it be? He didn't know _what_ kind of magic it was, but there was no way in hell that he would let anyone mess with his head, so he pushed back. Or tried to. He wasn't quite sure how it should work, but it felt like he was resisting _something_. Obviously he wasn't pushing back hard enough, because the memories overtook him.

 _Hohenheim, pausing in the doorway, promising that he'd be back soon. Waving goodbye cheerfully._

"Stop!" he shouted, throwing himself forward against his bonds, hair loosening from his braid and falling around his face. "Bastard!

Raising his eyebrows, the wizard tsked imperiously. "Brat."

 _His mother's funeral, where Al was clutching his hand and they were both weeping. Pinako and Winry stood a short way behind them._

"I said...stop!" Ed groaned, pushing harder against the fingers in his mind.

 _Hand shaking, he smeared his blood on the inside of the armor. "Give me back my brother!"_

Ed hissed and bit his tongue, shoving the wizard out of his head. His mouth tasted like blood, but it was better than those evil wizard bastards rifling through his head.

With a muffled, angry cry, Abraxus knocked his chair over, and Ed hit the floor heavily, his shoulder taking most of the damage. With a cry of rage, the wizard stalked out of the room. "When will those useless layabouts finish that Veritaserum?!"

As he lay there, however, he felt something cold and sharp-edged against his thumb. A nail. Contorting his hands so that he could feebly grip at whatever it was, Ed managed to move it back and forth a tiny bit. The wizards had tied his hands behind the chair (the side of which was digging painfully into his inner arm) and bound them with some sort of rope. It was presumably magical, which made escape a bit harder. But Ed had time and his sharp wits.

. . .

Wincing, Ed shifted a little. His forehead ached, a sharp sting on his temple and cheek indicated that he'd probably gained a few new cuts, and the taste in his mouth meant he'd bitten the inside of his cheek as he fell. Great. His flesh arm was numb, too, which was concerning, because he didn't know how long the blood had been cut off. If he could shift the weight, he wouldn't lose another arm.

Rocking back and forth, Ed managed to get the chair on its back, the slight curve of it keeping his forearms from bearing any weight. Better, but now he was stuck staring at the ceiling, and he had no idea when the wizards would come back to right him.

His stomach grumbled, and he was reminded that he hadn't eaten since dinner the night he'd been captured. Shit.

But that was still not his biggest concern. Eventually the wizards would realize that he would never tell them anything. Never. If he didn't get out before that, he was dead. With renewed vigor, he continued wiggling the nail. It was a lot looser than it had been when he'd started loosening it, but he had a ways to go.

He sighed.

. . .

Abraxus was at his wits' end. He now had only seven days - a week - to at least gain information about Amestris from the stubborn blonde, and he wasn't budging. Torture was out of the question - for now. The Dark Lord wanted the Amestrian as untouched as possible, but he would understand if it was for the sake of valuable information.

So Abraxus paced. The Imperius curse? No, he'd already ruled that out. Bribery? No, he'd tried that. He knew only one thing would give them what they wanted - veritaserum. He'd ordered his underlings to begin brewing it days before they captured Elric, but it took a long time to complete - more time than he had.

Damn it.

He returned to the room, where the Amestrian watched him coldly with those unnerving golden eyes. Wordlessly, he levitated the prisoner back to an upright position and left again.

. . .

Ed was alone in the room again. Considering that they had a deadline, his captors really didn't spend a lot of time with him. His head throbbed, and he moved to brace it against his hand, only to find that his hands were bound. Dammit.

Then he remembered the nail. It was already pretty loose. With a painful tug, he wrenched it forward. It was still lodged in the wood, but he had enough of it out to get a decent grip on it. He began to pull at it in earnest, when the door opened. That was just like the ferret-faced bastard, coming in at an inconvenient moment.

Golden eyes flashing with defiance, he faced the pale man. At some point between when he'd woken up and now, he'd decided not to speak a word. The seriousness of the situation was finally sinking deeper into him. So he observed. Abraxus was moving as he usually did, unhurriedly, with his nose turned up. They still had time. But the wizard's face was paler. Not as much time as they wanted, maybe even needed.

That was obvious. There would never be enough time.

How long had he been out?

How long did he have?

"Where is Amestris?"

What?

The wizard raised his wand.

Not again.

" _Crucio!_ "

Not again.

shitshitshitshitshit it hurt - the pain - dammit -

No.

He'd been holding his breath - his screams. He wouldn't break. The bastards couldn't break him. Al. Al was waiting for him. Winry. Pinako. Even Riza and Armstrong. The Marauders?

No.

"Tell me! Where is Amestris!"

They didn't know where Amestris was?

Ed glared at the wizard.

Irritation. " _Crucio!_ "

There it was again, that blinding pain.

Back arching in pain, Ed grit his teeth, a string of colorful curses on the tip of his tongue. Not one word. Think of the people waiting for you in Amestris. Think of the satisfaction of seeing those fucking bastards driven up walls by your silence.

"Tell me about your leg!"

Ed stayed silent. His automail fingers were still wrapped around the nail. Passing it off as shaking from the pain, he wiggled it. Looser.

Impatience. " _Crucio!_ "

andthe pain ithurtso much - bastard

Groaning against his teeth, he kept yanking on the nail. This pain was nothing. He'd lost an arm for his brother. He'd lost a leg for knowledge. He'd had a metal bar impale him, and he'd pulled it out and healed himself. This was nothing.

The nail was so much looser now. Nearly there.

The wizard had underestimated Ed.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" crooned Abraxus, "I can make it stop. If you just tell me…"

Ed wanted to kick him, but his leg was bound. He settled for a glare. He'd kick the pointy-faced bastard's ass later.

The nail was free, cradled in his hand.

Slowly, he pretended to fall unconscious. Someone - Abraxus - slapped him. He didn't react. He needed to be alone for what must happen next. Ed had done it before, sometimes, using a sharp object to etch an alchemic array into something.

The sound of footsteps faded. The door slammed.

What did he need now?

The magical (what else could they be?) ropes. How could he get them off? Ed couldn't scratch an array into them, considering what they were made of.. However magical they were, he assumed they were made of the same stuff as any other rope. Right? Perhaps fire…

He then realized how dry the room - and his mouth - were. He'd been here for a while, and he'd had only a small amount of water and hardly any food. Not an ideal condition. Combine that with his frayed nerves and it got worse.

Ed could think about that later.

Perhaps he could set his chair on fire?

No.

He could scratch a slightly explosive array into the chair, then activate it while holding his ropes close. Ed might get a little singed, but that wasn't a problem. An explosion was his best best. It would be small, considering the elements he had on hand…

Oh well. At least he had a start.

* * *

 **And that's all, folks! Please review and tell me what you think!**

 **(Plot? Hahaha I don't know her!)**


	14. No-one Understands

**Hey guys! This is the second-to-last chapter, can you believe it? This chapter and the previous one were, just like the first 3 or so chapters of this fic, taken from the original fic, but unlike those first 3 chapters, these have been so reworked that they're far more different. This chapter started as something completely different, but I changed so much of it that I think only a sentence or two of this is actually from the original chapter. The beginning of this was supposed to be chapter 13, but I couldn't make it long enough to merit its own chapter, so I reworked a few things and, well, here I am.**

 **I feel kind of accomplished, actually, finishing this story.**

 **And hey, how about that net neutrality mess? Yikes.**

 **Anyway, please enjoy!**

 **(Oh, and p.s.: for some reason I have to tell you guys that I don't own HP or FMA, so uh, I guess you know now?)**

 **Edit: Thanks to TheFishKing, who informed me that Fudge hadn't been made Minister of Magic yet.**

* * *

 _ **No-one Understands Why You're Always Running**_

* * *

Ed's kidnapping had happened quickly, and without warning. The Marauders were all shaken, understandably. Peter's nervous fiddling had gotten even more frantic, and the corner of his blanket was breaking apart from the repeated times he had wrung it or picked intently at a stray thread.

They watched as the gathering of adults - all dressed in their pajamas - crowded closer together, most likely discussing a way to bring Ed back. Euphemia had sent a Patronus immediately to Dumbledore, figuring he would be best equipped to handle the situation. And he was. He'd immediately apparated to Amestris to retrieve Brigadier General Mustang and Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye.

Al was wrapped in a blanket, a fire burning in his eyes. People didn't just kidnap Ed, and one way or the other, they'd get him back. Al knew it. Ed, unfortunately, had been kidnapped a lot, and he either broke himself out, or they got to him in time.

It would be difficult - near impossible, actually - to bring Ed back. They had no idea where he was, how many Death Eaters there were where he was, what was happening to him, if he was already-

"Isn't there some kind of spell or charm you can use to find him?" Brigadier General Mustang exclaimed at one point, pinching the bridge of his nose. Everyone was tired and concerned, and being woken up at 3 in the morning to be told that your subordinate had been kidnapped by the rising threat you were supposed to be forging diplomatic ties with wasn't a great way to start anything.

"No, there isn't," Dumbledore replied gravely, "I'd like to know how they knew Ed would be here. It was the one time he was open to attack, and we kept it very quiet."

James spoke up then, "Well, it's not exactly a secret that I invite my friends to spend Christmas with me. Maybe someone told them about that. I imagine they would have broken in anyways, to see if he was here, right?"

"I do think you're quite right, James. It's troubling to think anyone at Hogwarts would aid any supporter of Voldemort's, but the reality is that we're at war, and there are spies on many sides," the Headmaster said solemnly. He then looked at Roy. "I don't suppose there's any help you'll need from Amestris, Professor? A few helping hands would surely be of great use."

There was a moment of silence before Mustang slammed his hands down on the table, a grin spreading across his face. "None of us may be able to track Ed's location, but - Al, are you still in touch with Mei Chang?"

Realization dawned on the younger Elric's face. "Yes, I am. Professor Dumbledore, sir, if it isn't too much trouble, could you Apparate me to the royal palace of Xing? I think we know some people who would be extremely useful."

Dumbledore regarded him cautiously. "I trust you two know what you're doing. Very well, Mr Elric, if you would," he said, standing up and offering his arm to Al.

With a crack, they were gone.

. . .

As time passed, the visitors gradually fell asleep, and the next morning was tense and anxious. Barely anyone talked, and their nerves only got more frayed the longer they waited. The two finally returned after noon the next day with an excited Ling Yao and Mei Chang, and a far less enthusiastic Lan Fan. "Wow!" Ling exclaimed. "Who knew that magic was real?"

"You did," Lan reminded him quietly, "As Emperor of Xing, you were informed of this two years, when the Wizarding World first established contact with us."

"Oh, right!" Ling remembered belatedly. "That funny little man with the weird round hat. What was his name? Harold?"

"Millicent Bagnold," she replied, "the Minister for Magic."

Ling didn't hear her, as he was already studying the Christmas decorations curiously. "Trees inside. Interesting idea. I like it. Remember that for me, Lan Fan."

The various people in the house had been roused, and they gathered in the dining room again. The younger ones were yawning tiredly, but the adults were alert and sharp.

"Thanks for coming, Emperor Ling. We owe you one," Mustang greeted him from his seat at the table.

Ling grinned. "It's fine. If we don't get Ed back, who's going to pay for my meals?"

"I apologize for taking so long," Dumbledore said, "but we were held up by the palace guards." (Ling laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

Awestruck, the Marauders watched the Xingese emperor. James was rich, yes, but this person exuded sheer extravagance. He looked pretty young to be an emperor, too. Maybe 19, 20, at their best guess. (Little did they know he was younger than Ed.)

Edward Elric's friends were all weird.

Mei Chang, as it turned out, was a talented alkahestrist, whose skills with the Dragon's Pulse allowed her to do a great many things, including tracking chi. Given enough time, she could get a rough location for Ed. The more familiar she was with a chi, the sooner she could locate it, and she knew Ed's well, and Al's even better. Because the two were so similar, she supplemented her knowledge of Ed's chi with his brother's and by the time the sun began to sink beneath the horizon, she had begun narrowing it down.

Dumbledore summoned a variety of maps and spread them out across the table. Mei, sitting on her tracking circle, which was glowing softly with energy, finally put a finger down on a map of England and began moving it around. It finally came to rest on an unmarked area in the countryside. Deactivating the circle, she announced, "He's in this area."

"Thank you," Al murmured, hugging her.

"It's not a problem, Al," she replied, "I'd hate it if you lost him."

They decided to rest before making any more plans; they were all tired, and planning anything in that state wouldn't go well.

. . .

Remus couldn't sleep. Knowing that Ed was somewhere, taken by the forces of the Dark Lord, kept his mind awake, conjuring unbidden images of what could be happening to Ed. No longer able to bear the moonlight spilling through the window and across his face, Remus swung his legs over the edge of his bed and made his way out of his room and into the main one, where he sat down in the darkest corner he could find.

Sighing, he leaned his head against the smooth stone wall. Something rustled, and soon James sat down next to him. Turning his head to look at him, Remus asked, "You couldn't sleep either?"

"Yeah," said James, "I'm exhausted, but…"

"How can we sleep, knowing Ed's out there?" Remus finished James' sentence. "I feel so guilty..."

"Because we were there? Because we could have stopped them? Don't beat yourself up over that, Moony. They took us by surprise; there was nothing we could have done. Can you predict things like this? No. Can you unconsciously deflect spells? No. We were powerless, and as much as that blows, it's the truth. All we can do now is hope." James said, completely serious. This was one of the unusual (but not altogether uncommon) moments when James said something undeniably sensible.

. . .

It took most of the next day to come up with anything solid. The only notable locations around where Mei had tracked Ed to were a small town and a manor several miles away from it. That manor, as it just so happened, belonged to the Malfoys, a particularly nasty pureblood family. Rumor was that they were Voldemort supporters, and although there was no confirmation, this looked pretty damn suspicious.

"They're a rotten bunch," Sirius remarked, "My mother likes them a lot, and she has them over for tea sometimes."

"We've never associated ourselves with them," Fleamont informed them, though no one was surprised.

Unfortunately, floor plans of the manor were not available to them, and Sirius, who had visited that manor, had been seven the last time he'd been there and his memory was too fuzzy to be of any help. Their best course of action seemed to be bursting in and finding Ed as quickly as possible.

It was decided that Ling Yao, Lan Fan, Roy Mustang, and Riza Hawkeye were going to storm the house, while Dumbledore and the elderly Potters waited in a nearby copse of trees to Apparate them all out.

In the meantime, the others would be left to wait for any news at the house. It didn't sit well with any of them, as they'd have liked to help in any way they could. But the three magical folk capable of Apparating within legal bounds would have enough trouble Apparating themselves and five other people.

. . .

The sky was darkening as the party approached the manor. It was surrounded by tall hedges and looming walls, with only two gates. Alone, any of them would have found it hard to enter. Luckily for them, they had two expert martial artists, a veteran alchemist, and an extremely capable sniper.

Mustang was overjoyed to be able to blow something up without any consequences from the military or Riza. With a look of pure glee on his face, he snapped his fingers and watched with vicious pleasure as a massive explosion tore half of the west-facing wall apart. He didn't have much time to dwell on this, however; Death Eaters were already storming from the manor, wands out.

The four of them sprinted across the extensive grounds, Hawkeye's gunfire beating a steady beat and the rumble of Roy's explosions shaking the ground. Ling Yao reached a side door first, the others right on his heels, and then they were inside.

It was an intimidating house, to be sure, but the intruders didn't have the luxury of being intimidated. They were too busy trying not to get caught. Splitting up, Mustang and Hawkeye went in one way, and the Xingese headed in the other.

Kicking down each door as they looked around, neither pair saw the golden-eyed alchemist that was the object of their search. "Damnit," Ling cursed, scanning another room. "See him yet, Lan Fan?"

"No, I haven't seen him yet," she said, and broke down another door. "Ah, Emperor Ling, there he is."

. . .

An explosion shook the ground, and Ed knew wherever he was was under attack. And an explosion like that meant a few things; the attackers had explosives, the attackers had powerful magic, or - and this was Ed's least favorite option - the attackers had Brigadier General Mustang.

This wasn't the time for speculation. This was the time for action. The nail, which had come loose in his hand a short while ago, was already being used to scratch a simple array into the wood of the chair. Pressing a finger into the finished array, there was a flash of energy and the chair fell apart. Ed was free at last.

The door fell down, revealing Lan Fan. She looked at him calmly through the eyeholes of her mask, then said, "Ah, Emperor Ling, there he is."

Soon Ling's familiar face, complete with smug smirk, popped over Lan's shoulder. "Hey, Ed! I see you're already free. Would you mind blowing up the wall?"

"I was already going to do that, you squinty-eyed bastard. What are you doing here?" Ed asked, walking to the far wall. Clapping his hands together, he pressed them against the wall, and it exploded.

Fortunately, this was an outer room, and they didn't have to break any more walls to get out. Unfortunately, they were three stories up. The Amestrian hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact, and the two Xingese fighters followed suit. They took off across the ridiculously spacious grounds, the angry Death Eaters following close behind.

. . .

Albus Dumbledore watched from a distance as an explosion blossomed along the manor wall. The Brigadier General's work, he supposed. There were a series of subsequent explosions, tracing a path towards the mansion, and he could faintly hear echoing bangs. Those must be from the Muggle device Lieutenant Hawkeye carried - a gun, it was called.

Things quieted down, then an explosion rocked the house, leveling a veritable quarter of the massive place. Seconds later, a thunderous boom reached the three waiting wizards. "Was that the Brigadier General?" Euphemia asked, both impressed and dismayed.

"No, I don't think it was," he responded, eyes twinkling, "That was Edward."

. . .

This part of the house was destroyed. Ed slid down the rubble with Ling and Lan, seeing Roy and Riza run out of the house. He shot them an encouraging (and somewhat grateful) grin when they made eye contact, and they both nodded sharply at him before taking out what few wizards remained in their path.

It was a jumble of flashing, zooming lights and vague shouting. You'd think that wizards could be better about stealthiness - Ed had read about silent spell-casting during his stay in Diagon Alley. The thought was driven from his mind as he lurched to the side, resting briefly behind a tree. His head still hurt, and his vision was hazy. But the adrenaline rushing through his veins allowed him to ignore that.

There were visible spells, bright flashes of light or tendrils of darkness, and he dodged them well enough - although he was a bit singed, and there was somehow a smear of green paint on his arm - but his problem was the invisible spells. It was impressive - unbelievable, actually - that he'd avoided most of them.

Ed ducked behind a nearby hippogriff-shaped hedge and looked down at his slightly shaking hands, trying to steady them. He was nearly free.

A white peacock strutted by, squawking loudly as a spell hit it and it turned a nasty shade of purple. Ahead of him lay the half-destroyed wall, and with a good sprint, he could make it there in under 30 seconds. Heart pounding in his ears, he slammed his hands together and then onto the ground. Blue lightning spread from his hands and a large earthen wall rose out of the ground behind him. Though the ground on his side was level, on the other side lay a deep ditch, which would better deter the pursuing Death Eaters.

Roy and Riza were nearing, and he could see Ling and Lan approaching on the other side. "Hey," he said, "Thanks for the rescue, I guess. What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you, idiot," Mustang replied, despite the warm glint in his eyes, "Your brother's friend, Mei Chang, managed to track you. I'm glad we arrived when we did, you look like hell. I'd say you've even gotten shorter."

Ed's eyebrow twitched, but he was too tired to react like he usually did. "I'm taller than Winry now, flame bastard."

"Sure, sure," he chuckled.

Riza rolled her eyes. "We need to get going," she said, eyeing the wall.

Shooting one last glare at his superior officer, Ed sighed. "Lead the way."

. . .

By the time they reached the cluster of trees where their transports were waiting, the sky was fully dark, and the stars had come out in full force. Exhausted, Ed took Dumbledore's arm and they Disapparated.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Please, review and tell me what you think, or if you enjoyed it. I love seeing people's reviews, it's always fun to read them!**

 **Until next time!**


	15. One May Tolerate a World of Demons

**And here we are! This is the final chapter...can you believe it? I finally got around to finishing this damn fic. There's a bit of heavy stuff, but it's also pretty fluffy, and there's a hint about the sequel I want to write at the very end! I'm proud of myself; I've been averaging ~2,500 words per chapter, and this fic is definitely an improvement from my previous ones. I'm horrible at plot, though. Maybe I should try a different approach. Hehe.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **One May Tolerate a World of Demons for the Sake of an Angel**_

* * *

Ed woke up to bright sunlight and the familiar feeling of a hospital bed. Groaning slightly, he sat up, and found Al draped across his legs, asleep. Blinking, he looked around. It was the Hogwarts infirmary, and it was nearly noon, by the looks of it. Light streamed in through the windows, and there was hardly any sound; from what he could see of the outdoors, there was a thick blanket of snow muffling everything.

Just then, Madam Pomfrey bustled in, bearing a tray laden with food. "Oh, good morning, Mr Elric. I thought you'd be waking up soon, so I brought you and your brother some food. Do eat," she said, laying the tray on Ed's lap. The noise woke Al, who raised his head, blinking sleepily.

"There's food?" he asked, drowsy. He turned his head, and seeing his brother, his eyes widened. "Brother! You're awake!"

"Yeah, I am. How long have I been asleep?"

"2 days," Al responded,

Madam Pomfrey gave an indignant huff, "The Headmaster brought you in here, dehydrated, half-starved, shivering. He told me you'd been captured by Death Eaters. It must have been have been awful. You've recovered now, fortunately, but you've still got some lingering aftereffects from what prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus curse. Honestly!" The Mediwitch told them to eat, and left the infirmary again to inform the Headmaster that Ed had woken up .

"Are you...alright?" asked the younger brother. Ed had been gone for 2 days, and he was worried. The Cruciatus curse, which had been explained to him gently by Dumbledore, had obviously been used on him. While Al knew his brother was strong in every aspect of the word, he couldn't be sure his brother was completely alright.

Ed thought for a moment, staring out the window. Then, "Yeah, I think I am. It hurt like a bitch, but it was only two days, and those Death Eater bastards didn't even spend that much time interrogating me. Why are they so bad at that? Anyways, I thought about you guys, and I was alright - I managed. They wanted to know where Amestris was, how alchemy worked, if I would join them, the usual. At least it means they don't know shit about any of that, or me, for that matter."

"Good," Al said, "Dumbledore alerted the Ministry about the Death Eaters at the manor. A lot of them had gotten away by the time they arrived, but the ones they did catch are waiting to get tried soon. This is one of the biggest raids since Voldemort made himself known to the Wizarding World."

"Did they get any of the Malfoy bastards?"

"No, they didn't. Are they the ones?"

"Yeah, they are. Abraxus and his little shit of a son, Lucius."

They sat there in silence for a while, then Al elbowed his brother and joked about how Izumi or Winry would react if they found out about most of what was going on. Ed paled immediately and asked if Al wanted to give him nightmares. Laughing, the conversation turned to lighter things.

When the Marauders found out Ed was awake, they raced to the hospital wing. They'd cut their stay at the Potters' house short and returned to Hogwarts early. While waiting for their friend to wake up, they'd been wracked with worry. Al hadn't left his brother's side at all, so they brought him books to read while he waited.

"Ed!" James panted, bursting into the room. The Amestrian looked up from his conversation with Al, and grinned. He looked pale, and there were a few bandages wrapped around his head and arms, completely obscuring his automail arm, for obvious reasons. Ed's hair was pulled up in a loose ponytail, and his usual clothing had been replaced by a hospital gown.

The three other Marauders entered seconds after James, each smiling eagerly as they saw Ed. They were all in their pajamas, since uniforms weren't required over the holidays, and they made a funny sight. They stood there, panting, pajama-clad. Sirius was still wearing the ridiculous top hat he got for Christmas, and there were several red lines criss-crossing Remus' face from where he'd fallen asleep on a chair.

There were several chairs around Ed's bed from their previous visits, and they sat down. Peter asked, "How are y-you, Ed?"

"I'm good, actually. That Cruciatus is a hell of a curse, but I'm fine," he said, grimacing as a wave of residual pain from the curse wracked his body. One of the aftereffects of the Cruciatus curse was pain remaining from lingering traces of curse magic affecting the body, until the magic was spent. Of course, that wasn't as bad a cost as the loss of one's mind.

"What happened, Ed - if you don't mind telling us?" James asked, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

He frowned. "Well, as you know, I got captured by those Death Eaters. When I woke up, I was tied to a chair, surrounded by the bastards. Then Lord Voldy himself walks in - he kind of reminded me of Kimblee, actually, or Father - and threatens me, tells me to join his cult, then leaves."

"Wait - Kimblee? Your dad?"

"Kimblee was this mass murderer back in Amestris, and I didn't mean our dad, I meant this other crazy mass murderer who called himself Father. Can I keep talking now?"

"Right, yeah."

"So anyway, they keep me there for a while, ask me some questions, try to get me to join them, and torture me a bit. Then I get this nail loose from my chair, and I bust myself out. Of course, that's when the useless Emperor shows up, and then, well, freedom, I guess."

"Speaking of Emperor Ling, he still hasn't left. He's been running around the castle for 2 days, and it's been getting...obnoxious."

"I'll kick him out, don't worry."

The next day, Ed's words rang true, and as soon as Madam Pomfrey released him, shortly after lunch, the blond alchemist tracked down the Xingese Emperor. Ling was chatting animatedly with a painting of a group of gambling wizards. Behind them, a painting of a drag queen looked extremely annoyed.

"Hey, squinty-eyes!" Ed shouted, taking a flying leap at the Emperor's head, foot raised to kick him. Ling dodged, a grin spreading across his face.

"Ed! You're awake!" Ling greeted him, pulling out his sword and slicing at Ed. He moved out of the way, then flipped and aimed a punch at Ling's solar plexus. They continued battling like this, ducking and parrying and attacking. Lan Fan watched boredly from the sidelines. They'd done this a lot, and after breaking up the fights the first few times, she'd given up and let the two idiots have their fun.

Sirius' voice echoed from around the corner, "Where is Ed? He said he'd find Ling - oh." He had rounded the corner and found them. Ed and Ling took no notice, as they were too busy avoiding each other's kicks and punches. Ling's sword had lodged itself in the wall next to the drag queen, who was now glaring at it, angry and somewhat resigned.

"Hey! Ed!" Sirius yelled, somewhat awed by the intense fight.

Jumping apart, Ed and Ling chuckled. The Emperor pulled his sword from the wall, and Ed walked over to Sirius. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he said absently, looking at Ling Yao, "Do you two do this...often?"

"Yeah...I get kicked out of his palaces a lot," he chuckled, rubbing his head. Ling cackled, and Ed whipped around to face him, "Speaking of kicking people out...Get out, you lousy emperor!"

"Hey!" Ling cried, "I saved your ass! You should at least treat me to dinner!"

"Treat yourself to dinner, asshole!"

Pouting, the Emperor agreed to leave.

. . .

Al left for Amestris two days later, on the last day of Christmas break. He had his still too-thin hand wrapped around Professor McGonagall's forearm. She was holding his suitcase in the other hand, and she watched warmly as Ed hugged his brother. Al was sniffling, but he managed a watery smile and threatened Ed that if he didn't come back that summer, he'd send Izumi to bring him back.

Ed paled. "Al...you would do that to me, your own brother?"

Al smirked, then waved goodbye as McGonagall disapparated. The elder Elric was left on his knees, arm outstretched to where his brother had stood previously, shaking and pale. "He wouldn't...do that to me, right?"

James looked at him quizzically. "Who's Izumi? Is she scary...like those people, Kimblee and Father?"

"No...she's much worse," Ed told them, expression dark. Subconsciously, they held their breath, for the air around Ed was heavy and grim. "She was...our teacher. God, the things she did...I'll forever be scarred."

Sirius burst out laughing, but quickly sobered when the blond Amestrian glared at him, eyes flashing.

. . .

The rest of the year passed in relative peace. Of course there were odd occurrences throughout; Valentine's Day was strange for Ed, who received nearly as many cards as Sirius. Confused, he stared at his pile of cards, looked around, and asked, "What the hell?" The Marauders were laughing too hard to explain what was going on, so Lily Evans eventually took it upon herself to tell Ed what was going on. He blushed bright red, gestured at the cards, stuttered, and muttered, once again, "What the hell?"

A month later, Ed got into a fight with Peeves over a prank the poltergeist had pulled; setting up a series of traps around Ed's bed that the sleepy alchemist had fallen into, one after. His roommates woke up to him screaming things that would make even the most foul-mouthed of them pale, as he lay there on the ground, covered in a luminescent purple webbing, with his hair and skin dyed several interesting hues of green and blue, from what they could see. When they freed Ed from the webbing, it turned out he was dressed in a maid's outfit, his hair done up in an elaborate knot and thick makeup covering his face.

This, of course, set Ed on a warpath. Two hours later he had tracked down Peeves and taken a running leap at him, right hand raised to deal a stunning punch. Peeves responded in his usual fashion, and they ended up chasing each other all around the school. Students watched in amazement as Ed vaulted over a staircase railing to beat the poltergeist down. By the end, Peeves had gained a sort of admiration for Ed, and Ed likewise for Peeves.

. . .

Hagrid returned from a trip in the late spring, grinning as he lumbered up the path to his house, leading a group of seemingly invisible creatures. Ed had been waiting with the Marauders at the big man's house, interested in meeting the person his friends had praised. However, as Hagrid approached, Ed's jaw dropped. "He's so tall! I feel so...so…" Although he wasn't nearly as short as before, he still had a lasting sensitivity to any implications about his height.

Sirius chuckled. "He's bigger than everyone, Ed."

Ed's eyebrow twitched, but his irritation faded as he saw what Hagrid was leading. Sickly thin, skeletal black horses with misty, blank eyes and leathery wings. "What are those?"

"What are what, Ed?" James asked, frowning at the blonde.

"Those things he's leading! You know; horse-ish, creepy?" Ed demanded, gesturing forcefully to where the horse-things followed Hagrid.

Remus shook his head, squinting at where Ed was pointing. "There's nothing there."

"Like hell there isn't," Ed grumbled, stalking over to meet Hagrid, who had spotted them and had begun waving enthusiastically. When he got near enough, he said, "The hell are those things?"

"Oh, these?" The bearded man asked, smiling at the horse-things. "They're thestrals. So you can see 'em, eh? Don't think I've seen yeh here before," he said, looking at Ed, "You a student?"

Ed shrugged. "Yeah, I am. Why can't they see the thestrals?"

"Only people who've seen death can see 'em. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds," he told the Amestrian, extending a hand.

Ed took it, hesitant. "Edward Elric, ambassador from Amestris."

The older man looked surprised. "Yeh're the one? Thought they were sending military folk or summat - a Colonel and a Major, Professor Dumbledore told me."

"Yes, well, I got promoted a while back. I'm Colonel Edward Elric, and Brigadier General Mustang is at the castle."

"Yeh're telling me that yeh're a Colonel? But yeh're so...young," he finished, trailing off when he saw Ed's warning glare, "Didn' know they had kids in the military."

Snorting, the alchemist grinned, "They don't. I'm just a genius, is all, so they made an exception. Why do you have thestrals, anyway?"

Hagrid shook his head, turning his thoughts to the creatures. "Oh, jus' thought I'd take 'em in. Bloke told me he was tryin' to get rid o' some, so here they are. Majestic, aren' they?" He smiled proudly.

Ed didn't agree, but he kept that to himself as they walked to Hagrid's cabin. He explained the thestrals to the Marauders, who were all glad that they couldn't see them now, though they were curious as to what they looked like. Hagrid busied himself in the kitchen, setting a kettle to boil tea and digging out some pastries he'd baked before he left, which had been a month before the school year started. As expected, the pastries were rock-hard, but the tea wasn't too bad, and Hagrid had several entertaining stories to tell them.

. . .

The end-of-term feast was magnificent. The candles were brilliant, lighting the hall brightly as the students filtered in, full of excitement for the future and nostalgia for the past. There was a faint shadow, fear; the Dark Lord Voldemort was gaining power, but the glow of the Great Hall soon chased it away.

Headmaster Dumbledore gave a short speech, full of odd words and wise advice. The drapings in the hall were red and gold, the Gryffindor crest emblazoned proudly on them. They'd won the House Cup yet again, and they gave a loud cheer as the other houses congratulated them less eagerly, many students sending glares at the winning house.

Yet the feast commenced cheerily, and as the students went to their dorms for their last night at Hogwarts, laughter filled the halls. As usual, the Gryffindors held a party in the commons, with tables full of yet more food and a large supply of butterbeer that had been gradually smuggled back from Hogsmeade by the Marauders.

. . .

Ed left on the last day of school. The others had their luggage, and were waiting by their thestral-drawn carriage. They were just beyond the borders of the school grounds, where it was possible to Apparate. Professor Slughorn would be taking them back to Central Headquarters, and Ed's time at Hogwarts would come to a close. Ed stood near the portly Potions professor, hand resting on top of his trunk.

"Don't forget to visit, okay?" Remus told him, frowning worriedly.

"Don't worry, I will." Ed grinned, picked up his trunk, took Slughorn's arm, and they vanished. The Marauders stood there for a moment, then climbed into their carriage to join the others on their path to the train station.

Leaning his head against the window, James murmured, "I wonder if we'll ever see him again."

. . .

18 years later, Edward Elric stared up at 12 Grimmauld Place and prepared himself to enter.

* * *

 **Wow! What a time! February 2017, I started The Doer Alone Learneth. 15 chapters long, 41,109 words long. It took me 10 months to do this, but by some miracle, I finished what is perhaps my first semi-decent fic on this site. Thank you all for sticking with it through this. Sorry for being really bad at all of it.** **And hey, maybe check out the sequel, if I ever get around to finishing that. I can't make any promises, but I have a dream. Plus, I'm actually going to spend time figuring out the plot and details beforehand, so it ought to be alright - _if_ I get around to it.**

 **As usual, please don't forget to review with your thoughts! I'd love to hear about your impressions of this chapter, what you enjoyed or didn't about this fic, and anything else that comes into your head!**

 **Bye for now!**


End file.
